


The Witch and the Prophecy

by noveltea_lolita



Series: The Legend of Esmya [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha Germany (Hetalia), Alpha Prussia (Hetalia), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Beta Canada (Hetalia), Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Fae & Fairies, High Fantasy, King Arthur AU, M/M, Magic, Omega North Italy, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 264,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltea_lolita/pseuds/noveltea_lolita
Summary: King Arthur AU. A shadow has expanded from the Kingdom of Avalon and threats to take hold of the rest of Esmya. In a world without any hope, a young prophet named Matthew learns of an ancient prophecy that speaks of the rightful king of Avalon, who will take the legendary sword from it's stone. Embarking on a quest to find this young king, Matthew meets a sharpshooter drowning in the bottom of a bottle; a Fae mother forgotten by all; and a shapeshifter shackled to Avalon's throne.Little does Matthew know just how much these unsung heroes will help him on his quest. He just hopes he is not too late to save the future of Esmya.
Relationships: Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), France/Scotland (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Minor or Background Relationship(s), South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Series: The Legend of Esmya [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534811
Comments: 158
Kudos: 195





	1. The Birth of Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of an old roleplay I did. I loved it so much I had to expand on it! Be warned, this is a high fantasy AU, which means a lot of fantasy type names. I tried to make it as least confusing as possible, but be prepared if high fantasy isn't your cup of tea!
> 
> Native America- Ayiana/Victoria
> 
> Gaul- Marianne

_Hark now, come listen close, to the tale of our plentiful land. Esmya, our grand continent; where the valleys of snow and pine flow in the north, and where the misty mountains stretch tall in the east; where Fae dance within the west, and where legends are born within the south. Esmya, our beautiful and majestic home, lost to the darkness prophecy once foretold thousands of years ago._

_Many seasons before us, deep within the Kingdom of Avalon, the wicked King Uther Jones Pendragon devised a plan to take control of the entirety of Esmya. He was only human- a man without a drop of magic within his veins. No grand power, which made Uther nervous about the magnificent magic around him._

_He was not swift like the Fae of Raetia; he was not wise like the Elves of Norge; he was not powerful like the Ledyanoy of Glaceria. Unlike Uther, these aforementioned creatures knew of the Old Ways. They were bound by tradition and the laws of magic, and they were very strong._

_Avalon was home to humans; alphas, omegas, and betas that were not so powerful unless they were wielding a weapon. Growing jealous and greedy, Uther spent his youth traveling Esmya in search of ways he could harness magic himself, and he ended up finding it. In the icy mountains of Glaceria, where no sane man would ever trek alone, Uther found a coven of witches who worshipped the unholy gods._

_“An eye for an eye, and we will teach you the ways of the Darkness,” one witch hissed._

_There were no hidden riddles, Uther had to give his eye so he could develop the knowledge they had. Once the payment was made, Uther gathered old spells, ancient books, and so much more. How to summon demons, how to make them obey even the lowliest of men… the dangerous magic that had since been outlawed in Esmya was now in the hands of a king._

_Uther traveled back to Camelot, and immediately began doing everything he could to make himself and his kingdom powerful enough to take control over the bigger nations around him. His two sons, the eldest Alfred and the youngest Alexander, watched their father work; one was apprehensive, the other was eager. Uther ordered his sons to strengthen their army of men, while he worked on his own army of demons and darkness._

_“With this magic, Avalon will be unstoppable.”_

_And in the end, King Uther’s words proved to be correct._

_Ten years after receiving such great power, Avalon mobilized. They stretched westward, to the small land bordering them. Inshini, Land of the Sun, was the first to fall. Only a handful of prisoners were taken, the rest were slaughtered. Avalon moved north, to the place where an abundance of tribes and clans without any borders were scattered within the forests and mountains. Everywhere Avalon went, they were successful._

_It was not long before Avalon was marching through the Black Forest of Raetia. This is where Avalon’s power would truly be tested. Raetia, home of the Fae, was once an unbeatable kingdom, but Uther knew not even they could defeat his army of darkness. And he was right._

_Uther led the charge to Raetia’s capital, Soliac, and easily made it inside. He took down the Faerie Princess and her spouse, but the legendary Faerie King was nowhere to be found. It was ruled that the old king had died of natural causes before Avalon's forces hit. And then, one week later, as the dawn light crept over Raetia’s land, their flag was lowered and Avalon’s replaced it. The Little Folk and sacred wolves that lived inside the Black Forest vanished at the disappearance of their king, and were not seen again for many years._

_Norge and Glaceria knew something must be done to stop this, but their armies had shrunk over the years. They risked being eliminated by raging war against Avalon, and thus, they stayed quiet._

_The death of Uther Jones Pendragon happened gradually, around the time of Raetia’s demise. Norge and Glaceria held out hope that Prince Alfred would undo what his father before him had done, but alas, it was not meant to be. Before his coronation, Prince Alexander poisoned his elder brother and killed him, thus making himself king. Alexander, cruel, dark, cunning Alexander had bigger plans than his father._

_Unlike Uther, who only wanted to show off Avalon’s strength to the magical creatures around him, Alexander wanted more. He wanted Esmya to bleed._

_Alexander ordered a ban of magic in Avalon. Books on magic were to be burned, there would be no history taught of the Fae, Elves and other creatures, only on the kings of Avalon. Trinkets built by the Fae were to be destroyed, the Old Language of Raetia was outlawed, as was simply uttering any sort of praise to the once great land. He did not stop there; he began rounding up the Fae from Raetia, killing and burning them, building labor camps to have them work and eventually die in, and leaving them to starve. He snuffed out every single rebellion the Fae had started to create and made graphic examples out of them._

_Bodies would swing from Soliac’s palace gates, so the Fae who continued to live within Raetia would understand what waited for them if they tried to rise up. If Fae could not find sanctuary in Norge to the north of them, there was not much hope for them. A small population resided with Raetia, unable to escape or simply too afraid to try, while the rest were in camps. A land once filled with the singing, dancing, and beautiful Fae was no more._

_Shapeshifters were also hunted, relentlessly. Those that walk the fine line between man and beast were easy to make submit, and Alexander figured this out. Unlike the Fae, shapeshifters had no kingdom of their own. They lived in packs in the mountains, in tribes bound by no law. They were easy to find, and easy to control. Alexander killed the elderly and sickly shapeshifters, along with the shifters that could not turn into predators. He kept the ones, regardless of whether they were alphas, betas, or omegas, that could shift into dire bears, dire wolves, and the like. They would become his super soldiers._

_Prophets were sought after, as well. Those that could see into the future, and find ways to change it. Alexander needed them. Unfortunately for him, prophets were always a dying race. There were hardly any left in Esmya. By pure luck, he found one in a tribe within the plains, who went by the name Ayiana._

_Sweet Queen Ayiana, with dark skin and black hair, with eyes the color of lavender. Fire swam within her veins, and the wind sung songs in her ears. Immortal she was, she could see glimpses of the future. Taken from her mate and children, Ayiana became the Queen of Avalon, and received a new name: Victoria, for her true name was much too uncivilized._

_With a prophet as his queen, Alexander believed nothing could stop Avalon. He wanted to make Esmya bleed, and he did. Rivers ran red with the blood of Fae, and the sky heard the cries of pain from unwanted shapeshifters._

_A heavy shadow that smelt of blood, smoke and darkness descended upon Esmya, and pierced through our land’s very soul._

_For moons, for seasons, this darkness seemed impenetrable. All hope was lost…_

_But an ancient prophecy spoke of this darkness, long before it came to be. A prophecy that spoke of the rightful king of Avalon, who would have fire racing through his veins, and who would pluck the legendary sword from its stone._

_“The Once and Future King of Avalon will free Excalibur from its prison, and will be the rightful king who shall be fair, and just, and loyal. He will banish the darkness, and bring peace to the land.”_

_A prophecy that spoke of a Faerie Queen, the queen of Raetia, who would be born of the Sun and the Moon, and would bring the sacred wolves back to a land broken and destroyed._

_“The Faerie Queen, rightful queen of Raetia, will join the Once and Future King, and the darkness will be vanquished. She will be kind, and nurturing, and gentle. She will hold her torch high, and bring light back to the land of the Fae._

_The Once and Future King and the Faerie Queen will combine their courts, and stand within the center of this Ancient Darkness, and dispel it. Only together shall they be victorious.”_

_No one remembered this prophecy, and the ones that did believed it only to be a children’s fairy tale, all except for a boy that could see into the future. He, the one who could read the stars, knew this prophecy spoke the truth. He just had to find the Once and Future King, and the lost Faerie Queen._

_He, the one known as Merlin, took the first step in vanquishing the darkness. And then came Gawain the White Wolf, the sharpshooter who lost his family; Elaine the Faerie, a mother forgotten by the gods; and Lancelot the Strong, the shapeshifter who was shackled and broken by Avalon._

_The birds still sing, the sun still shines, and the people still dance one hundred years after the darkness was destroyed because of Merlin the Wise; Merlin, the witch who read into the shadows and saw the light, who looked to the sky and watched as the stars looked back._

Excerpt from **100 Years of Peace in Esmya**, by Sakura Honda.

.

.

.

_125 years before ** 100 Years of Peace in Esmya** was published_

_Camelot, Capital of Avalon_

Resting within the Queen’s chambers within Camelot’s royal palace, Victoria held her newborn babe in her arms as he fed against her chest. Victoria stared at the boy, only two days old. He had come early by an entire month, surprising most of the palaces’ residences. Victoria knew it would happen, she foresaw it with her ability of the Sight. A gentle smile graced her face, a look that only a mother can have for her child.

The boy’s skin was pale, white as his father’s. She thanked her gods for that miracle. If the child had been born with skin dark like hers, bad things would befall him, for that she was certain. The soft hair atop his head was blond too, once again like his father’s. Though he was a beta, Victoria thought Alexander would be pleased. The babe has the skin of his father, not that of his mother’s.

She placed a gentle kiss to his soft forehead.

Phillip is the name Alexander decided to give their newborn. He had yet to see the babe- he was out in one of Avalon’s provenience's and would not be home for two weeks’ time- but that was the name he had picked out, a name that had belonged to one of his great grandfather’s. In Victoria’s eyes, that was not the babe’s name.

“Nanook,” she mouthed against the babe’s head. “My Nanook.”

A name from her tribe, the home she had once known. She knew she could never call Phillip by this name in the presence of others, but like her true name would always be Ayiana, Phillip’s true name would always be Nanook.

Slowly, Nanook stopped suckling at his mother’s breast. He opened his eyes, revealing the violet irises that mirrored her own. Victoria smiled at the boy and pulled him closer. The smell of milk wrapped around her, lulling her tired mind and aching heart. If only her true beloved could see this boy. He would raise him right, he would be a good, wonderful father to him.

And then, the silence and peace was broken by a piercing shriek from Nanook. It should Victoria to the core as Nanook screamed. His violet eyes were wide with terror, and his little body shook within her arms. He flung his arms around, frightened like an animal. Could a two day-old possess such ability to scream like a banshee?

Victoria pulled him closer, and peppered a kiss to the top of his head. “Hush, child. You’re safe. I will never let harm fall upon you.”

It didn’t matter whatever words Victoria said, Nanook kept screaming. His screams were loud, earth-shattering. Victoria peered down at him, growing concerned. What kind of baby made such noises? Nanook reached blindly for his face and began rubbing his eyes, as if he were trying to... cover them from something…

Victoria’s stomach dropped. Her skin pricked as she stared at the babe, scared of something that she could not see. No, it couldn’t be…

The babe was a beta! The sight belonged to omegas, not betas or alphas. Perhaps she was mistaken. Maybe the babe was prone to tantrums. And it was awfully late, so it was possible he was simply tired.

No, Nanook could not have the Sight.

And then Victoria’s nightmares came true.

.

.

.

Marianne Bonnefoy smiled at her son as she brushed his long hair. Though he was a beta, he wanted to grow his hair out because he wanted to have hair as pretty as his mother’s. That’s what he claimed, at least.

Marianne had not much power within the palace. In fact, she had none at all. She was Queen Victoria’s lady-in-waiting, her queen’s best friend. Before Victoria arrived, Marianne had been taking care of the monarch’s laundry, and had been like a shadow against the walls. She was beautiful, and because of her beauty, she was sought after by many alphas. Her late mate had passed away before Victoria even made it to the palace, but he had blessed her with a son before he died. She named the boy Francis, and they lived their life together in the palace of Camelot.

After becoming friends with Queen Victoria, Marianne became her lady-in-waiting. Her chambers were no longer shabby quarters below the palace, they became grand and magnificent. She was invited to grand balls, and was able to sit directly beside the queen. It gave Francis a chance of a good future, too. He was able to study with noble children, and, once he was of age, he would start training under the guidance of strong soldiers to become a guard of Camelot’s palace.

Life for Marianne was good… at least that’s what it was on the surface.

Secretly, Marianne was working with Queen Victoria- no. She was working with Ayiana of the Fire Clan. If such a secret got out, Marianne would be hanged. Ayiana probably would be as well, now that she had given birth to a beta son. And what would happen to her very own son, who sat patiently in front of a mirror as she combed his hair.

"I can brush my own hair now,” Francis suddenly said. “I’m ten years-old.”

Marianne banished her thoughts and smiled. “I know, darling, but I simply cannot help myself! You have such gorgeous and youthful hair, I just have to run my fingers through it!"

Francis smiled at his mother in the mirror. “I have hair like yours.”

Marianne smiled back. “As you like to say, my charming son.”

Just then, wailing sounded from down the long hallway. Marianne and Francis looked toward the door. They lived on the hall belonging to the queen, so Marianne could be called upon whenever the queen needed her. No one else lived within the hall, so the wailing must belong to the newborn babe Phillip.

“Stay there,” Marianne ordered Francis. “I’m sure it is nothing, babies cry all the time after all, but just to be on the safe side…”

Marianne walked through her candlelit chambers to the door. Right as she made it to them, someone began knocking from the other side. Marianne opened it, revealing Ayiana with a crying babe in her arms.

“Goodness, what is the matter?” Marianne exclaimed. "You shouldn't be moving around so much! You've just given birth."

Ayiana’s face was as white as Marianne’s, and her eyes were stretched wide in anguish. She was in her sleepwear, and her feet were bare. She must have rushed out of her own chambers quickly. Marianne stepped aside and ushered Ayiana inside.

Upon entering, the babe’s cries quelled. It was unnerving, how quickly he stopped making such noise. Francis stood from the seat at the vanity, and quickly bowed before the queen. Ayiana didn’t seem to notice him for once. Instead, she very quickly rushed through the quarters of her friend, heading away from the door and into the area where the beds were. It was the furthest from the door she just came from.

“Ayiana?” Marianne asked softly as she followed her. “What is it?”

Ayiana placed Phillip on one of the beds and finally turned to Marianne. Something was clearly very wrong. “Marianne,” Ayiana whispered, gesturing her forward. Marianne obeyed. “You are my closest friend. You will die before you share my secrets, that I know for certain. I am filled with guilt for the things you know about me, for the things I have asked you to keep quiet about. This time, I ask for your silence once more.”

Marianne stared at Ayiana, then at the babe squirming on the bed. It was true, Ayiana asked her to keep quiet about many things, but Marianne did not mind. It was because of Ayiana that she was able to live a comfortable life, that her son was able to have a bright future. It was because of that, that Marianne stepped forward and took Ayiana’s warm hands in hers.

“Of course.” Marianne sank to her knees, and bowed her head. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and shielded her face like a curtain. She closed her eyes. “I will continue to be silent for you, Queen Ayiana of the Fire Clan.”

Ayiana suck in a breath before she squeezed Marianne’s hands. “Then stand, my friend.”

Marianne did. Ayiana and Marianne looked at each other, and though her face was still pale and fear still burned within her eyes, Ayiana smiled. She then looked past Marianne, into the room where Francis stood. “Francis, come here.”

Francis did as he was told and came to stand beside his mother. Marianne did not smile at her son this time, she did not try to tell him that everything would be okay. She herself did not know what Ayiana’s news would bring. Ayiana kneeled in front of the boy and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Francis, son of Louis and Marianne Bonnefoy, I must ask a great favor of you. I am about to do something to my child, something that will change his life forever. You are to witness it, but you must keep quiet about it.” Francis’s eyes widened. “You are a smart boy, Francis. Your future is bright, I have seen it. I cannot tell you everything I have seen, and I cannot not tell you anything unless you stay quiet about this. Promise me, boy. Promise me that you will stay quiet about the things that are about to happen.”

There was a beat of silence. It was so quiet that Marianne could easily hear the nightly summer winds hitting the windows outside, and the beating of her heart in her ears. Marianne could wish with all her might that Francis agree to Ayiana’s words, but it would be futile. Francis will do what he believes is right. Marianne has silently taught him things that an Avalonian boy should not know, and he has kept quiet. He knows injustice, despite his age. He knows genocide without ever having seen it. It is now time to see what he will do with such knowledge.

Finally, Francis lowered his head. “I-I promise you, Queen Ayiana.”

“Good boy.” Ayiana pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before standing. “You have taught him well, Marianne. Thank you.”

Marianne looked again at the squirming babe. “Please tell us what’s going on.”

Ayiana moved away from Marianne to stand beside Phillip. In a soft voice, she whispered, “He is a prophet, like me.”

Ayiana’s manic behavior made sense. Marianne pressed a hand to her mouth as those words fell upon her. A prophet, like his mother. It was exactly what King Alexander wanted.

“He is a normal child aside from that,” Ayiana continued, placing a hand on her babe’s stomach. “White skin like his father. He is a beta, not an omega, which means Alexander will keep him. When he figures out Phillip is blessed with the Sight, the things that will happen to him, the things that will happen to Esmya…” Ayiana closed her eyes. “I have seen the horrors. There will be no hope for Esmya.”

“Not even the rightful king could save us?” Marianne asked quietly, speaking of the ancient prophecy Ayiana had told her about.

Ayiana stared directly into Marianne’s wide gaze. Her violet eyes were sharp with such wisdom, the only thing that told of her immortality. “Without this boy, there will be no rightful king of Avalon.”

Marianne’s throat grew dry. How much did Ayiana see of her son’s future?

“What must we do?” Marianne asked.

The queen looked back at her babe, with a gaze so solemn, it broke Marianne’s heart. Marianne understood what that look meant. She was going to give up her child, Ayiana did not need to say it.

“How will you do it?” she whispered, moving closer to Ayiana. “You have already written to Alexander and told him the news. He will grow suspicious if his son is just gone.”

Once again, a silence stretched throughout the room. The wind continued to bang against the windows, rattling them uncontrollably. It was a telltale sign that a storm was approaching quickly. Francis stayed quiet, as he stared from Ayiana to his mother. Marianne wondered if, like herself, Francis’s gaze traveled to Phillip. Did her son wonder what kind of awe-inspiring power this child possessed too?

Ayiana’s throat bobbed slowly as she looked at her firstborn. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and her hands shook. Marianne always thought Ayiana to be the strongest omega she had ever met, and here she was, nearing the breaking point right in front of her. Ayiana balled her hand into a fist and opened her eyes. She rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin.

“I am not going to be the one to get rid of him, Alexander is.”

Her words had a frost to them, unlike any Marianne had ever heard from her friend before. “What do you mean?”

“To Alexander, it will not matter that this boy is his son, that he has his skin and hair color is like his own. If he is a cripple, Alexander will not want him. He will toss him out, and refuse to accept him as an heir.” Ayiana swung her head around to meet Marianne’s eyes. Steel and fire shone within her gaze, and only grew as she spoke her next words. “He will not know his son was a prophet, he will only know him as a crippled unfit for Avalon.”

Marianne then understood completely. She lifted her hands to her mouth once again as her stomach rolled uneasily. Yes, she understood what they were to do. No one but Marianne had been there to witness the coming of this child. She took care of Ayiana as she birthed the child, she cut the umbilical cord, and she announced to those waiting in the hall it was a beta male, nothing more. No one had seen the new prince except for the three standing within these very chambers. They could get away with this. Esmya’s dark future was not set in stone just yet.

She dropped her hands and met Ayiana’s eyes. How much more would this queen have to sacrifice for the good of this land?

“We are going to make him crippled,” Marianne whispered as thunder rolled in the distance.

And Ayiana nodded.

.

.

.

Two weeks later, Francis Bonnefoy, a boy who had turned eleven years-old just yesterday, carried a crippled babe swaddled in blue, through the forest in the outskirts of Camelot. He would never forget the anger in King Alexander Jones Pendragon’s voice as he roared to the gods above for cursing him with a son with a twisted knee, on which he would never walk straight for the rest of his days.

There was no healer skilled enough to set bone like that as Alexander had killed the most powerful Faerie healers. Therefore, the babe was useless to Alexander. It was a disgrace to Avalon, to the Pendragon name, and needed to be left for dead in the wilderness.

The boy named Phillip whined in his arms as he slept, but Francis did not look at him. He kept on the path, just as Queen Ayiana and his mother had instructed.

“I have seen what you are to do, boy. Listen well. Take him into the forest,” Queen Ayiana said just last night. “Follow the path hunters take, and place him atop a bed of blackberries. Hide behind the hawthorns until a woman dressed in brown fur comes. She will look like me, with lighter skin and black hair in braids. Do not leave until she picks up the child and leaves. Your work will be done after that.”

The sun was hidden behind dark clouds, casting shadows throughout the forest. Francis’s feet ached within his boots as he headed down the hunter’s path. He did not understand how a man could have so much hate in their heart, how one could be cruel enough to banish their own baby.

It had taken him a few days to fully understand why Queen Ayiana had hurt her son. He had been scared as he watched his mother hold the babe still as Queen Ayiana gripped his left leg and twisted in, breaking his knee and making it practically useless. The bone stuck out unnaturally to the side, making it unbendable. But now Francis was beginning to understand. This child had to be out of the hands of King Alexander. Yes, he understood. Alexander Jones Pendragon was not his king.

He had a queen, and her name was Ayiana.

Francis paused his walking when the blackberry bush came into view. It was on the right side of the trail, and smelled divine. He looked around. No one else was there. He held the babe in one arm as he knelt to the ground and pushed aside the leaves to make room for a baby. When it seemed comfortable enough, Francis rested the child among the bush.

“Goodbye, Phillip,” he murmured. “My mother says you will be safer outside of Camelot. I hope to one day see you again, when we are older.”

The babe did not stir. Francis stood up, and backtracked a few paces until he saw the hawthorn Ayiana spoke of. He crouched beside it, and poked his head around. He wondered how long he would have to wait for the one who Ayiana saw in her visions. Would she be the babe’s new mother? Or would she give him away, too.

Around Francis, the forest stirred within the wind. It was warm, not unseasonably so. Avalon’s summers were mild, and their forests were filled with many different types of birds that would always sing in the comfortable weather. It took Francis a moment to realize not a single bird was singing.

But someone else was humming.

Francis shrunk back against the hawthorn and held his breath. He could hear footsteps against the leaves, which meant whoever was there was not walking along the trail.

The trees above him groaned as the wind picked up, and he hoped it was enough to cover whatever little noises he was making.

Then the humming ceased.

Francis bit his bottom lip as he poked his head around the tree just enough to see a woman standing before the blackberry bush. She did not wear much, only a dress made of animal skin hugged her body from her shoulders to her thighs. Boots were laced up to her shins, and a cape made of the fur of a beast hung from her shoulders. Her skin tone was almost the same as Ayiana’s, something that told Francis this woman was not from Avalon. It was just a bit lighter, but her hair was the same inky black. It was longer then Ayiana’s, and cascaded down her back, almost touching the forest floor. A braid hung from the side of her hair, just like Ayiana said. This was the woman who Ayiana saw in her vision.

Francis silently watched as she leaned down and scooped up the child. She peeled the blue blanket from him, and something like understanding passed through her face. She swaddled the babe once again and held him close. Francis ducked when she looked around. He stayed still, refusing to look again in case the woman saw him. He counted to thirty in his head before finally looking.

The woman and Phillip were gone.

Francis did not move until the birds began to sing again.

.

.

.

Ayiana of the Fire Clan, better known as Queen Victoria Jones Pendragon of Avalon, sat in the garden of Camelot’s palace in a shimmering dress of burgundy. Her black hair blew in the wind, dancing around her silently.

This was not the first child that had been lost to her. She lost the first one right after it had been born, many years ago; a daughter that was snatched away and murdered by Alexander. As an immortal omega, it had taken her many tries to get pregnant. Who knew how long it would take to have another child?

By this time, Francis should be on his way back. Her son, her Nanook, should be in the hands of another woman. He was no longer her son. He would be given a new name, and would be taught different things by someone foreign to her.

But she would not mourn.

No. Ayiana of the Fire Clan would not shed another tear for her firstborn son. It was a small price to pay for what could have befallen him. That night two weeks ago, Ayiana had a vision after Nanook finished having his own first vision. She saw her son years into the future, where he was chained at his father’s throne without any eyes. Alexander had taken his eyes so he would be helpless. He was using his own son for his personal gain. Alexander no longer just had a kingdom, he had an empire.

The prophecies she knew to be true, the ones that spoke of two separate monarchs that would take back Esmya would not come true unless the prophet she birthed found them, and he could not do that if he were blind and chained to a throne. That is what her vision told her.

“A light is beginning to grow,” Ayiana whispered in her native tongue. “The flames of a rebellion have appeared, and in eighteen years’ time, the winds of change will be upon us. May the gods have mercy on Esmya before that time comes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please not that any and all loose ends you find in this chapter will be explained as the story progresses. You will have to stick around and find out what happens with them ;). And so, chapter one ends. I cannot tell you how excited I am to start this. I have so many plans for the characters, for the world, for everything. This is going to be Part 1 of 4, so yes, this is a very long story.
> 
> And yes, the woman who picked up little Phillip is based off of the Native Inuit Tribe of Canada. It is one, if not the most well known Native tribe in Canada.
> 
> Kudos are great, but comments are better! :)


	2. Child of Witches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, there is a ton of stuff in this chapter. Enjoy part 2 of the prologue!

_Come to me, O Wise Merlin. Teacher of all, you gave your heart to the future of Esmya and asked for nothing in return. Eternally grateful for all that you have done, how shall we ever repay you? For if it not for you, this land would have been consumed by shadow. Our friend, our brother, our light- you have done more for us then was ever asked of you._

_O Great Merlin of Esmya, you found Avalon’s Wonderful King. You looked at the growing darkness, and walked through it with only your staff at your side. Guide us, Wise One, so we may be as fearless and as strong as you. May you walk with that same courage in your heart now, as you find your way home among the stars above._

Taken from the words engraved on the statue of “Merlin the Wise”; gifted to the Kingdom of Avalon by Raetia’s royal family following his death..

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For the first eight years of Matthew’s life, he considered himself to be a witch. He grew up in the steppes of Glaceria, north to the border of Avalon, with his mother Adhan and her small coven of six additional witches. There, Matthew spent his life learning the language of the common tongue, spoken throughout the continent of Esmya, the history of his home, and the ways of a witch.

“The term witch has many different meanings,” Adhan had explained one afternoon as they sat in the kitchen of their cottage. Her steady and strong voice shook him to the core as she spoke. “Many believe witches to be any person that speaks to demons, or those who flaunt cheap talisman, but they are wrong. Real witches are immortal creatures with blue blood that were the offspring of Fae and daemons long, long ago. Magic runs through their veins, giving them abilities that vary from witch to witch. Those who say all witches are capable of is giving the gender of an unborn babe and mixing herbs are only scratching the surface.” Adhan looked into Matthew’s eyes. Her hazel gaze seemed to glow as she leaned forward and breathed, “We can do so much more than just that.”

“But you didn’t give birth to me,” Matthew had said dejectedly. “So I can’t be a witch. And all the other witches here are omegas, I’m just a beta.”

Adhan took Matthew’s hand in her grip, her skin much darker than his own snow white hand. “Child, it does not matter whose womb you came from. I, one of the oldest witches in these lands, will raise you in the ways of one. You may not be able to use the same magic as I, but it isn’t all about magic in the end. Nor is it all about being an omega. It’s rare, but there were alpha and beta witches before our race began dying out.”

With the words of his mother in his heart, Matthew studied even harder to become a witch. Though he was not physically capable of much, what with his twisted left knee, he learned quickly. He asked many questions, read book after book, and followed his coven out into the wilderness to collect herbs and other things they might need. Despite his young age, Matthew was turning out to be a very promising witch.

But there was one thing that made Matthew vastly different from his coven: he was a prophet.

Prophet, Seer, blessed with the Sight, there were many names for people like Matthew, but they all had the same meaning; he could see into the future.

“Witches can only predict the future by using tools of divination,” Adhan had told him one day. “Tarot cards, tea leaves, and the like. Prophets don’t need anything to see into the future. They were born with the ability to do so. If they’re blind, they’re futuristic sight becomes even more powerful, though any form of the Sight is seen as powerful.”

This was not a blessing to Matthew, it was a curse. He had no idea how to control it. Once he was playing by himself away from the cottage when he had been overcome by such an intense and frightful vision, he vomited and passed out once it was over. His dreams were plagued with events that might happen, and most were not pleasant. He saw many events and many different people, none of which he had ever actually seen in real life. The visions were hardly ever straightforward, either. Many assaulted him with explosions of different colors, images, and noises. It made his head pound and his body restless. If he were awake when these visions happened, and happened to be around any writing utensil, he would scribble pictures of what he saw on whatever surface he could get to. It was a stressful and exhausting way for any child to live.

Adhan and her coven tried making a variety of poultices to quell his onslaught of visions, but not even those worked. There were hardly any resources on those who had the Sight in the past, especially not in the world they were living in now. Though they lived in Glaceria, King Alexander would stop at nothing to get his hands on a prophet, regardless of where they lived.

And so, despite his coven’s many attempts at controlling the visions, Matthew suffered as a child. Though he was so young, he sometimes wished he had never been born to this horrid life he now lives. However, Matthew continued to learn everything he could about being a witch so perhaps one day he could overcome this accursed Sight.

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On Matthew’s seventh birthday, he received a gift from his entire coven. It was a beautiful, long, and sturdy staff, made completely out of oak, a tree that grew nowhere in Glaceria.

It was a tall staff, taller than Matthew. About half-way up, the staff diverged into two and twisted around each other like antlers. Traveling up and down it were runes, symbols of the Old Language. Matthew did not know how to speak it just yet, but he was familiar with quite a few of the symbols, as that’s what the coven used when performing spells.

The witches stood in a circle around Matthew and Adhan, who was holding the staff. She smiled and offered him the wood. Matthew lifted his chin and took the staff from his mother. His small hand couldn’t even fit around the chilled wood!

“You will grow into it,” Adhan explained, smiling widely. The sharp Glacerian wind blew through the valley, causing the high grass to billow and bend, looking as if they were bending toward Matthew. The weak summer sun barely heated his skin, but with his mother smiling at him like that, with his coven surrounding them in a circle of security, Matthew couldn’t have been warmer.

“This is a gift from all of us,” Adhan continued. “It is to be used as a walking staff, for as you grow older you will have to make trips to far off villages and kingdoms just as we do. Witches go to where they are needed, and this staff will help you get there.” Matthew looked up at the staff, at its intricate cut, and at the runes running along it. This would help him in the future as he traveled! What a tremendous gift! “Now, we traveled to Avalon to get the wood. Can you guess why?”

Matthew felt his stomach twist just a bit. He didn’t know this was going to be a test! “You went got it from Avalon because… oak symbolizes wisdom and strength, the two qualities of every good witch?”

Adhan grinned as a few witches chuckled. “Not quite, smart boy. No, we took oak from Avalon because that is the kingdom you were born in.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. Of course, he grew up knowing that. He also knew exactly who his parents were; King Alexander and Queen Ayiana Pendragon. Adhan had told him early on, so he wouldn’t have to find out in the future and have it ruin his childhood, whatever that meant.

“We carved runes of the Old Language into the staff to symbolize who you are,” Adhan continued. “You are the discarded prince of Avalon, sharing blood with a man who has caused so many atrocities to those who practice magic, to the ancient Fae, and noble shapeshifters.” Adhan lifted her hands over her head and tilted her head back, the sunlight shining down on her braided black hair. “But that is not who you are! You are a witch, one who will study the Old Language, who will learn to live in harmony with nature!” Adhan looked back down and pointed one finger at him. “You are Matthew Williams, son of Adhan, and Child of Witches, and this staff symbolizes just that. Do you understand?”

The wind blew again, and the grass brushed against Matthew’s legs. He looked at the staff once more. The wood was taken from an oak in Avalon, a kingdom ruled by a horrible man, and had been carved with runes, symbols that were outlawed in that very kingdom. Matthew had been that man’s blood in his veins, but was learning the ways of old. Yes… yes, he understood the symbolism! He looked at Adhan, the only mother he knew, and smiled.

“I do.”

There was love and pride glowing within Adhan’s gaze, before she tilted her head back again and raised her hands. This time, the rest of the coven did it with her, and in unison they shouted,

“Blessed be, Child of Witches!”

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On Matthew’s eighth birthday, he and Adhan were traveling from a remote village in the mountainous region of Glaceria back to their home in the steppes. An outbreak of sickness had taken a hold of the village. Upon hearing of it, Adhan decided to journey there to stop the disease and heal those who had contracted it. Believing Matthew was old enough, she let him tag along as a birthday present. Matthew had been ecstatic.

Now as they trekked back home in the early morning, Matthew’s feet ached more than they ever had before, but he was still in high spirits. They had saved the village! Well, really his mother had saved the village, he just watched her work. Oh, how he wished he had the same magical ability as her. It was amazing! It was so much more useful than his problematic Sight.

“Are you listening, Matthew?” Adhan asked suddenly.

“Oh.” A bit of red splashed across Matthew’s cheeks. He hadn’t been paying attention at all. His thoughts were still so focused on witches’ magic, and the village they had just left. “No, I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t see Adhan’s expression, and he was slightly thankful for that. He didn’t want to see her disappointment! He tightened his wool cape around himself as Adhan sighed. “This is an important lesson. I am talking of Raetia, which is located…”

Matthew grew a bit excited. He knew this answer! “It’s the kingdom furthest west in Esmya!” He exclaimed a bit too loudly. Immediately, he covered his mouth.

Adhan shot him an amused smile. “Correct. I was trying to tell you of the last Faerie King.”

The excitement fizzled out of Matthew. His history lessons had taught him of Esmya’s beginnings, and the foundations of the kingdoms. He knew little of the Faerie King, or of Raetia in general, but what he did know made him sad. It was not a tale one told around the fireplace with laughter in their voices and ale in their bellies. It was for solemn days, during times of mourning.

“Before Avalon took over, the one who sat on Raetia’s throne was given the title of either the Faerie King if they were an alpha, or the Faerie Queen if they were omega. The last king of Raetia was one of the best rulers Esmya, or perhaps even the world had ever known. He ruled for many centuries, and allowed his kingdom to flourish. The Fae in Raetia loved him as if he were their father, and for good reason. He was a good, kind male, but above all else he was extremely powerful. The magic Raetia’s royal family held was gifted to them long ago by the sun god and the moon goddess, allowing them to control light and shadows. The last Faerie King’s magic was so grand, many speculated that his lineage would have even greater abilities.”

“If his magic was so powerful, how come he was defeated?” Matthew was genuinely curious.

There was a bend in the road that took them toward the forest. Shadows engulfed them as they headed inside, and Matthew felt immediately colder. He wondered if that were from the lack of sunshine or the story that was about to unfold.

“The Faerie King was very old when Avalon attacked.” Adhan’s voice was softer now. “Fae are immortal, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they live forever. Technically speaking, witches live longer than them. When the Fae folk become old enough, they simply disappear. Their soul is taken to the afterlife, and their bodies turn into a piece of nature, like a tree or a flower. Unlike demi-Fae, full blooded Fae do not age; the oldest one has probably ever looked is forty. I think Raetia itself forgot that. Those who are still waiting for the Faerie King to return are blinded by grief and pain. He was able to escape Avalon, but it didn’t matter. All of the ancient creatures of Esmya felt it when the Faerie King passed, we know he is gone. Where he died, what his body turned into, that will perhaps always remain a mystery.”

Matthew was quiet for a moment. He was not sure why Adhan had randomly started talking about the Faerie King and Raetia, but many of her history lessons usually started off randomly anyway. “Many creatures in Esmya are immortal, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. The forest itself seemed to be holding its breath around them, as if it too wanted to know the answer.

“Indeed there are, or there were. Once upon a time, Esmya flourished with a variety of immortal creatures! But, like I said, at some point even the oldest of immortals must rest. The Fae and Elves turn into things of nature in their final moments; the shapeshifters that are immortal carry out their final days in their beastly forms and will eventually die in their animal skin; Ledyanoy melt back into the snow. Immortals are very natural creatures, you see.”

Death and immortality, it was all very scary to Matthew. He had seen people dying in past visions, some were mutilated right before his eyes, and he did not want to think about it more than he had to. He reached for his mother’s hand and held it in a tight grip. He knew what she would say if she knew his fears, she would say death is a natural thing that everyone must eventually face. It wasn’t exactly death itself that scared Matthew, it was more like his lack of immortality.

The trees around him began bending, caving into the ground itself. Matthew stopped walking, and just like that, a heavy weight slammed into his head. A cry left him, but whether or not his mother could hear him was no longer important. Matthew was no longer standing in the dark forest, where the scent of birch and alder had been thick in the air. He was in a different forest. The edges of his vision shimmered, as if he were looking into a body of water. Everything seemed to pulse. He was having another vision. He pressed his shaking hands to his racing heart, and looked around, trying his hardest to gather his bearings. However, his hands stopped shaking as he looked around, for even in his panicked state he could tell this forest was beautiful. It looked like it belonged in a fairy tale.

The leaves on the trees were the most vibrant color of green he had ever seen. Most of the trees were evergreens, but a few elms were scattered here and there. The dark forest floor rose up and down gently, with moss and small shrubs everywhere. The forest seemed like it was alive. Matthew could feel it breathing, even though he wasn’t truly there. The wind sang in the trees, and a few birds called to one another in the distance, and the air smelt of pine and snow. Everything here was so peaceful, so gentle. Where was this place?

Unlike visions in the past, this one moved slowly. He could see his surroundings almost perfectly and there were no bursts of color or random images. He spun around, his knee barking in agony as he did. Even in times like this the thing still hurt.

Matthew had to narrow his eyes to make out two figures walking through the forest. He could make out a tall, broad-shouldered man with shoulder length golden hair. He was dressed in dark greens, with a brown cape covering the majority of him. At the sight of him, something within Matthew’s chest bloomed. What were these sudden feelings? Love, protection, pride, friendship… they danced in his heart, swam in his head. Did he know this man? Despite the greenery and stones at his feet, the man kept his gaze ahead and moved with purpose, with confidence. Matthew narrowed his eyes further, the pressure in his head deepening as he tried to see what the man’s face looked like. Strong features, lips twisted into a frown, eyes… he couldn’t tell what eye color the man had. He had never seen this man before in his life, but something in him was happy to see him. It was gentle and warm, a feeling he had never felt before. He blinked a few times, but the pressure refused to leave him. The pain hurt so badly, it almost distracted him from the words the young man was saying.

“-mother is going to miss you very much.”

This was the first time Matthew could actually hear someone say a full sentence. His visions were usually just filled with screaming or incoherent gibberish. He tried taking a step forward to follow the man, but he didn’t need to. The man had stopped. Matthew then noticed someone else at his side, someone smaller. The man’s broad shoulders had hidden him from view.

“And I will miss him very much,” the smaller man said. “But we have already said our goodbyes.”

This man was much older. His pale skin looked ashen in the faint lighting, and his hair was completely gray, stopping just underneath his ears. He wore a smile on his face as he looked at the man with admiration and pride. Whoever the young man was, he clearly meant a lot to the smaller man.

Matthew’s throat constricted when he saw what was in the older man’s left grip- it was staff made from oak, with runes running up and down it. It looked worn, with a couple of new splints scattered around it, but that was obviously the staff Matthew had. Was this… his future? When he was old and… dying? His head throbbed, and the world around him shimmered again. Matthew gripped his head and gritted his teeth. No, he wanted to see what would happen.

The old man, _his older self_, smiled gently at the young man. There was a lifetime of emotions in his eyes. “Thank you for walking me here…” He clearly said a name, but Matthew couldn’t make it out. “I’m glad you’re the one to see me off. Huh. It’s funny. It seems like only yesterday that you were such a rowdy young boy. Now look at you, Raetia’s youngest general!”

Matthew couldn’t see the young man’s expression, but he could see the way his shoulders fell. “And it feels like only yesterday you were a bright young man.”

The old man chuckled. “There’s your usual sass.” He brought a hand to his mouth and coughed rather violently. He drew his hand away, and that smile was there again. “You best behave, my boy. Take care of your mother, and make sure your father doesn’t overwork himself, you hear me?”

The young man’s shoulders shook slightly as he nodded. “I will.” Then, the man murmured, “You will find him?”

At this, the older man’s expression grew just a bit solemn. He looked off into the forest, beyond the trees and greenery around them. There was a far-off look in his gaze, one that was in the past. “I always do.”

The edges of Matthew’s vision began to ripple, breaking apart the scene before him. NO! He wanted to see what would happen, he had to know if this was where things ended for him. Who was this young man? How close were they? Who was the… the older version of himself going to find? He had to know, there was such an urge in his chest, clawing to get free. He had to know!

The elder looked back at the younger, his gaze in the present once more. He handed the other the staff in his hand. “This no longer serves a purpose for me. I want you to have it.”

The boy clearly hesitated. When he reached out to take it, the runes glowed brightly for a moment. It had never done that for Matthew before. The man held it in both hands, his head tilted down. “You were like a brother to me,” the man whispered. “You helped raise me, you taught me so many things.” The man’s voice shook. “How am I supposed to live without you? How is Esmya going to survive without you?”

The older man did not hesitate. He reached out and drew the younger man into his arms. Though he was much larger, the younger buried his face into the elder’s neck. “My boy,” the older man murmured. “Every living thing dies, not even immortals last forever. There will come a day when your parents pass, when my brother passes, and when you pass. It is not meant to be sad, it is supposed to be a wonderful and joyous occasion. Remember me, my boy. Remember all we have done together, the adventures we went on. Remember me, and live.”

A pain so unlike any he had ever felt before split through Matthew’s head. He actually cried out and squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to go away. There were tears slipping down his face, either from the pain or from the heartbreak he felt. He blearily opened his eyes, just in time to see the elder man walking deeper into the forest with a heavy limp to his left leg. The younger man stood still, watching him go. Then he turned around, his long hair shielding his face, and pressed the staff into his chest. Even though his face was shielded by his hair, Matthew could see the tears slipping down his face. They were both crying. Holding the staff tightly, the man began to walk in the opposite direction, away from the elderly man. And then the world exploded around Matthew. 

_“Matthew!”_

Matthew coughed. He lurched forward, desperately trying to breath. Oh, gods. Oh gods he had to breathe! He clung to his shirt. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. It took him too long to process that he was sitting on the forest floor, that he was no longer in that fairy tale-like forest, and that his mother was patting his back. Once he realized those things, his breathing started to return to normal. He was relaxing.

“That’s right, Matthew,” Adhan murmured. “Good, good. Keep breathing.”

She had been the one who had screamed his name. He blinked a few times. His body felt so groggy, and his head was heavy. “Mom?” he croaked, leaning against her. Her scent was familiar and it filled his lungs as he inhaled. He was safe, he was okay. He was with his mother.

Tears welled inside his eyes without him even being aware of it. That vision had been the most powerful thing he had ever witnessed. He had to tell his mother. He had seen an elderly version of himself- had it been because they were talking about death prior to it? Then there was that long haired man, who he obviously loved like a brother.

“Shh,” Adhan cooed, beginning to stroke his hair. “Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

Yes… it was okay. It’s all okay. So why did Matthew cry? Why did he feel such heartbreak in his chest? Why did he cling to Adhan and begin to sob? The Matthew in the future had gone into that forest to die, and Matthew of the present had watched him do it.

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It was on Matthew’s ninth birthday that it happened.

Since receiving that particular vision on his eighth birthday, many of the things he saw following that were much tamer compared to the things he was used to. No more loud noises he couldn’t decipher, no more strange images he couldn’t interpret; they were slow and boring things. He hadn’t had a nightmare in the gods know how long!

Adhan and her coven believed Matthew’s past visions to be a sort of trial run. Perhaps they grew up with him; the older he got, the less chaotic his visions would become. Matthew went to bed every night praying to the gods that that was the case.

Matthew continued to learn the ways of the witch. He studied runes for spellwork, for when he turned nine, Adhan promised him she would start teaching him basic spells, ones even someone without witch blood could use. He became entranced by the history of Esmya, and tried to learn everything he can. The coven sometimes laughed, saying they had never met a boy as studious as he. And every night, he would hold his staff with both hands and try to get the runes to glow like they did in his vison. It never worked. Perhaps that man had possessed magic, but it never glowed when Adhan touched it, either... 

Matthew tried hard not to dwell on it. He didn’t want his mother to get suspicious. Matthew never told Adhan what he saw that day. He wanted to, but something about it seemed so personal, he had a hard time getting any word about it out. Thus, he didn’t, and he preferred it that way.

And so, mere days after the summer solstice, Matthew’s birthday came. The boy was curled within his bed, sleeping soundly with his staff at his side, when midnight struck. Matthew was officially nine years-old. And on this night, Matthew would have the most important vision in his entire life…

When Matthew opened his eyes, darkness surrounded him. Fear pooled in his stomach, making his bowels watery. This was a sort of fear he hadn’t felt in almost an entire year.

Matthew saw nothing, it was impossible to with how black everything was. In his hands was his staff. He gripped it tightly; at least he was able to hold on to something. He wriggled his toes. It felt like he was standing in some sort of valley, but he still couldn’t see a thing. This darkness, this heavy shadow… it was like he was blind. Matthew looked around, desperately trying to find someone, or something.

“Hello?” he called out.

The only thing that answered him was the howling wind. And then a voice.

_There is a shadow over Esmya._

Matthew froze. He tried to look around for the direction of the voice, but still saw nothing. He waited, straining to hear something else, and that’s when he heard drums. Something was rattling. It struck terror in his heart. Flames began appearing in front of him, in the distance. At first, he was thankful for the light, but then he saw just who was making those flames. Creatures with inky black skin, skin as dark as the night around them. Creatures with scales and fangs and claws, things from the Underworld. These weren’t the types of creatures that lived in Esmya. They were the things of nightmares, and they were striking their drums with bones. Matthew had no way of knowing for sure, but he had great suspicion that those bones belonged to humans.

_This is the darkness that grows stronger every day._

Above one of the flames, a flag was raised, and then another, and another. The bone drums grew louder, until they were nearly deafening. Matthew wanted to run, but he couldn’t. He thought he knew fear from the visons he had in the past, but this was something else. It was true terror. He gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white. This was Esmya’s future. This is what was coming; creatures of darkness.

And then, at the front of this army, another fire was lit. Standing right above the fire was a man who looked to be in fifties with a frown tugging across his face. He had pale skin, and wore golden armor. A crown gleamed atop his graying blond hair. His blue eyes were narrowed in delight as he wiped his hands on his armor, smearing around red, gold, blue, and black blood. Red blood of humans… golden blood of Fae and Elves… blue blood of witches… and black blood of those creatures behind him? Matthew felt sick as more and more creatures began appearing around the man, the king who was leading this army. King Alexander Jones Pendragon of Avalon, his father.

To the king’s right appeared a thin man without any eyes, they were just black sockets dripping with black blood. His hair was a dark burgundy red, and his skin color was almost gray. The grin that stretched over his face was maniacal, and his body was covered in golden blood. He lifted his own dagger to his lips, and ran a long tongue over the blade, collecting the Fae blood from it. Beside him, a tall, unnaturally thin woman appeared. Her skin was azure, and her hair was as black as the darkness around them. She wore nothing but a piece of cloth to hide her breasts. Her fingers were long, and her black nails were even longer. She was covered in red blood, and in her left hand she held an eyeball. On the king’s other side, a woman appeared in a red cape. Unlike her companions, she was beautiful and young. Her black hair flowed down her back, as shiny as a young maiden’s, but her white face was devoid of all emotion and her black uniform was gleaming with blue blood, and her nails… by the gods, her nails were as long as daggers and looked like they were actual iron. They, too, dripped with blue blood. Finally, beside her, was a creature that looked like a stag, except it was standing on its hind legs, and it had hunched shoulders. Sharp teeth glittered from its mouth, along with foam and blood, and it’s eyes were bloodshot and yellow. These four monsters were working directly under the king.

Matthew slowly shook his head as screams began filling the air. The bone drums just grew louder and louder.

“We’re doomed,” he whispered.

There was no way Esmya could overcome this darkness. Whatever hope people wished for, it was going to be crushed by this growing army. This is what Avalon was doing. These things were going to be released upon the world, those four creatures that were beside the king were going to annihilate everything in their path. And no one would be able to stop them.

Purple and yellow light suddenly washed over the valley, chasing some of the darkness away.

_Not all hope is lost._

Standing atop a hill overlooking the valley were ten individuals with the horizon at their backs. Matthew narrowed his eyes up at them, trying to make out any sort of characteristics. His eyes widened. These ten people were dressed for battle, and their eyes were gleaming so brightly, each of them looked like a set of stars. And what was that noise behind them? Cheering? Screaming? Had they brought their own army?

The man in the center of the ten individuals unsheathed a sword and lifted it over his head. The blade suddenly burst into flames, burning brighter and becoming larger, chasing more of the darkness away. As Matthew stared at the flame, at the ten people atop that hill, he felt his fear leave him. The voice echoed in his mind, _not all hope is lost._

He could now see the people better. To the left of the man with the sword stood a woman with bright red hair and piercing green eyes, with a mouth twisted into a scowl. She did not wear a dress, instead she wore leathers and had two blades in her hands.

_Guinevere._

To the man’s right was a large warrior with long black hair, and a black wolf’s pelt around his shoulders. In his own grip was a huge sword, ancient and wicked. His blue eyes were narrowed, and chipped with ice.

_Lancelot._

Beside that man was a small woman, no- Matthew could see her pointed ears from here. It was a female Fae. Her auburn hair was pulled into a braid against her shoulder. Her eyes were like warm amber as she glared before the gathered army. There was no weapon at her side, but magic danced at her fingertips.

_Elain._

At the red headed woman’s side stood lean woman with midnight black hair and bangs cut right at her eyebrows. Her brown eyes were slanted, as if they were shaped differently than her companions'. Her skin tone was different to that of the others, too. White fox fur hung over her shoulders, and though her face showed no emotion, anger burned in her brown eyes.

_Galehaut._

On the auburn haired female’s other side was a lean man with silver hair held up in a ponytail, and in his hands he held a bow. His eyes were bright red above his grinning lips. Matthew felt his heart physically ache for some strange reason upon looking at the man.

_Gawain._

And finally, his gaze fell upon the man with the flaming sword again. He held himself high, with blue eyes the color of the sky glowing brighter than any of the other’s. There was something glowing atop of his head, something golden that gleamed in the firelight provided by his sword. It was a crown.

_Arthur._

_When all hope seems lost, Esmya will look to these people as their beacon of hope. They will protect their people, and hold together the foundation of each kingdom of Esmya. They will make a future for our land, but they cannot do it alone._

An eleventh figure appeared between the two called Arthur and Lancelot. He was dressed in browns and whites, and had curly brown hair. His face was sharp, as were his violet eyes. They were the same shade as Matthew’s own. A book was in open in one hand, and he raised his free hand, pointing over the valley to the exact spot where that bloodied king stood.

_Merlin._

“They must be guided by the one called Merlin.”

Matthew spun around, still gripping his staff. The voice spoke from directly behind him this time. Standing before him was a huge male Fae with a golden crown sitting atop a head of unruly brown hair. His skin was tan, and he wore silver armor underneath reds and whites. There seemed to be some sort of golden light coming from, making his entire being glow.

“Wh-who are you?” Matthew was shaking. This man exuded so much power…

“Who I am is not of importance,” the male said. “What matters is you.”

Matthew was dumbfounded. “Me?”

“You.” The wind around them grew harsher, pulling at the male’s red cape. His amber eyes were bright, and shone with a friendly warmth, but his voice was hard and stern. It was made to be listened to. “Avalon’s army of daemons and darkness grows every single day. In time, it will be too massive to be destroyed, but there is hope. An ancient prophecy speaks of a boy named Merlin who is destined to find the Once and Future King, the rightful King of Avalon. He is to lead the young King to the legendary sword Excalibur, so he may pull it from the stone. Only will the King know his true path if he is led by Merlin, you.”

Matthew’s head was whirling. The Once and Future King… the rightful king of Avalon… Excalibur. This was all too much. He felt like he was going to pass out. The bone drums still pounded away, the cheers of the army behind the hill became louder and louder.

“I-I don’t understand-”

“Esmya’s future is in your hands, Matthew Williams!” the male shouted over the noise. “You are Merlin, and you must find King Arthur and the rest of his court.”

Battle cries sounded from atop the hill. Matthew looked away from the male to watch as Arthur lowered his flaming sword, and shouted something. Then he tore down the hillside. Guinevere and Lancelot threw their heads back and yelled to the heavens before plunging after the king. Light exploded around Elain as she raced after Lancelot, followed swiftly by a grinning Gawain. Galehaut pounded after them, followed by the remaining four individuals on the hill. And then an army poured down the hill, raising different colored banners, but all shouting the same battle cry… all pointing their weapons at the same enemy.

The bloodied king raised his sword, and his all of his creatures seemed to scream a chilling song from hell before diving into battle, meeting the opposing army head on. Matthew looked away, shaken to the core. Is this what Esmya would turn into? A battlefield? He looked back at the male.

“I’m just a kid,” he whispered. “I can’t do anything.”

“Not yet,” the male murmured, his voice a bit more gentle. “But you will not be a child forever, and when that time comes, you must begin your quest. From Camelot to Excalibur, you must guide the Once and Future King. You must build his court, and then you shall be on your way, Merlin.”

As the battle raged behind Matthew, the male reached for the staff he was still clinging to. He was not able to protest when the male took it from him. The entire staff began to glow, not just the runes. It glowed bright and brighter, with the same light that seemed to surround the male. Then he handed it back to Matthew.

For the first time, the staff was warm. It thrummed with something powerful. Matthew’s eyes widened as the runes began to glow, just like it did in that vision he had one year ago.

“I will guide you when you need me,” the male said, lifting his chin. “I will walk beside you in your times of need, but I am begging you, bring peace back to Esmya. Make it the place it once was. And do not fear, young Merlin. You will not have to do it alone.”

As soon as those words left the male, images crashed into Matthew. They went by too fast for him to make sense of any of them, but he caught a few glimpses. He was brushing a boy’s hair; he was laughing with a beautiful Fae; he was leaning against a massive alpha; he was sleeping beside a lean, white haired man. Friendship, love, protection… emotions spun around inside of him, leaving him breathless. Too much was happening…

“Now.” The male pressed a hand to Matthew’s forehead. “Your quest begins soon, Merlin.”

.

When Matthew awoke, his bed was soaked with sweat and his chest was heaving. At first, he foolishly thought what he had just witnessed was a gods-awful dream, until he reached for the staff lying beside him in his bed. Upon touching it, the runes glowed brightly in white light. Matthew began to shake. That was no dream, it was a vison.

Creatures of hell were coming, some were already in Avalon. Avalon would destroy Esmya unless _Matthew_ found this Once and Future King. The male he had spoken to said it was part of an ancient prophecy… A gasp left Matthew. His mother must know about this.

Matthew kicked the sheets off of him and grabbed his staff. Ignoring the time, he limped quickly to his mother’s bedroom. She was still awake, sitting at a desk with a book open before her. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Matthew, are you-”

“Mom,” Matthew began, his voice trembling just slightly. “Please, tell me all you can about the Once and Future King.”

.

.

.

That same night, things were set in motion.

In the royal palace of Avalon, the young prince of eight years snuck out into the garden because he wanted to catch all of the fireflies he could. As he raced into the palace garden, he found a strange boy sitting among the rose bushes. The prince had never seen him before, he would have recognized that shaggy blond hair and those huge eyebrows in an instant. There was such a sadness coming from the boy that the prince could feel it too. Anyone who had just been through what the young boy had been through would be sad. Torture, pain, transformed into a horrific monster by the King of Avalon himself... The young boy had the right to be sad and untrustworthy of all those around him. He kept his arms crossed as he looked up at the sky. The young prince didn’t want anyone to be sad, not with him around. He stepped closer to the boy and sharp green eyes landed on him. They should have filled him with fear, but they didn’t. The prince just smiled widely, his sky blue eyes bright in the darkness of the garden. He opened his mouth to say hello. _Once upon a time, a king met his queen in the rose garden…_

In a remote village in the corner of Avalon, where many shapeshifters lived their lives hidden from King Alexander, a fire was set in the middle of the night. Alexander had found them. One shapeshifter, a warrior with ice blue eyes who could shift into a black wolf, pushed his mate into the arms of his brother. Everyone knew what King Alexander did with shapeshifters, he turned them into soldiers who would listen to his command without question... but everyone also knew what atrocities the King committed to captured omegas. The warrior yelled for his brother to take his mate and _run_, far away from here. Screams echoed throughout the night as the fire grew higher and higher, as Avalonian soldiers ripped apart this remote village to find suitable shapeshifters to turn into cold-blooded killers. The blue eyed wolf got a final glimpse of his beautiful amber eyed mate, and his cunning red eyed brother, both screaming at him to come back, to come with him, to run with them, but he turned his back to them and raised his blade to the Avalonian soldiers before him. _Once upon a time, a warrior with a heart of gold was shackled to the throne..._

And carried on the winds of Esmya, drifting throughout the entire continent, names were being whispered. If you stopped and listened, for this one night, you could hear the names being whispered by the wind.

_Arthur… Guinevere… Lancelot… Elain… Galehaut… Gawain… Merlin..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends the prologue portion of the story! I am so excited to truly "start" on this story! Let me say, this chapter kicked my arse. I deleted so much, added so many other things, it was a lot, but I like the final outcome. And once again, any questions you have will most certainly be answered in the future of this story so stay tuned.
> 
> Adhan is the name of Merlin's mother in the oldest story featuring Merlin, _Prophetiae Merlini_ by Geoffrey of Monmouth back in the 1100s.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos!


	3. A Tavern At Midnight

_A Note on Witches and Familiars_

_Familiars are defined as any animal that shows some form of interest in spellwork, magic, etc. They appear to witches when witch and beast are young. The beasts’ eye color will change to match that of their witch and their hearts beat as one. They will live and die together. For an existing familiar to become another witches’, an intricate ritual must be cast involving all parties._

_A list of animals typically found to be familiars: cats, crows, ravens, foxes, owls, and deer._

Excerpt from _A History of Esmya’s Creatures_

.

.

.

_Nine Years Later_

The rowdy sounds of the tavern before Matthew Williams surprised him. Considering the time, he assumed this tavern at the edge of a small mining town in Avalon would be quiet and nearly empty. Judging by the voices shouting from inside, and the heavenly scent of some sort of meat wafting through the air, he had been wrong.

A crooked sign creaked above the door of the tavern. In large, blue letters, the sign read The Broiled Pig. It even had the outline of a blue pig above the words. Matthew scrunched his eyebrows together. What a lovely name.

He reached for the door, but shrunk back when it swung open and revealed a drunkard with one of the barmaids gripping his arms. They both reeked of beer and smoke as they stumbled past, laughter and snorts bouncing around them as they walked down the path leading away from The Broiled Pig. Matthew watched them go, feeling that familiar knot of anxiety in his stomach at the thought of stepping into a place like this.

He knew better then to walk into a tavern such as this during the midnight hour, but he was getting desperate. Since he left his home in the steppes of Glaceria three months ago, he found many answers of his numerous questions inside taverns like this late at night. Those who knew valuable information, things that could get them killed, probably thought it safer to emerge during the time when hardly any Avalonian guards walked the streets of their homes.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous.

The last tavern Matthew had walked into, he had narrowly escaped a group of drunk alphas that thought him pretty enough to be an omega. He shivered at the memory of it. As foul as those alphas had been, they had given him valuable information as he played along with them and pretended to be a lost little omega.

“Do you know where I can find a man known as Gilbert Beilschmidt?” he had asked, as he perched himself on the knees of the largest alpha.

“That crazy bastard usually hangs around The Broiled Pig,” had been the reply. The alpha grunted in distaste. “Why you lookin’ for him? Ain’t no doubt in my mind he’s a witch.”

One of the others had snorted in agreement. “His white hair and red eyes? Just ain’t natural.”

Unfortunately for Matthew, the three alphas had not been as drunk as he had hoped them to be. They figured out he was a beta, and he barely escaped with little more than a bruise to his cheek. But it hadn’t mattered. After searching for so long, he was finally getting closer to the end of the first step of his quest! If those drunkards from a few nights ago turned out to be right, this would be the last time he would have to look for answers in sleazy taverns.

Matthew closed his eyes as he exhaled, the breath misting out before him. He ran his gloved fingers down the runes of his staff, letting the familiar markings and groves calm him. The familiar warmth of it seeped into his touch. _The last time_, he reminded himself. _Just find the man Gilbert Beilschmidt and ask him your questions._

Opening his eyes and pushing up his glasses, Matthew pulled open the door to The Broiled Pig. Heat blasted his cold cheeks, and warmed his body. A fireplace roared in the corner of the tavern, seeming to be the only light in the room. Tables were scattered around the room, with tankards and small plates of food filling them, and groups of fours and fives occupying them. A bench ran along the wall where many people, alphas by the looks of them, were holding glasses filled with frothing amber liquid. A couple of scantily dressed waitresses fluttered across the floor, picking up plates or refilling glasses. This place was very lively, indeed.

Matthew closed the door behind him, and limped further into the tavern. The tapping of his staff caused a couple of patrons to shoot curious stares his way. A few just sneered. He was used to it. A crippled beta was just a nuisance to society.

He looked around the tavern, keeping an eye out for a man with white hair. Those men had called Gilbert Beilschmidt a witch but Matthew knew that to be untrue. White hair and red eyes was an outdated stereotype belonging to witches. Besides, no witch would be foolish enough to stay within the borders of Avalon nowadays. Well, except for Matthew.

Knowing he was causing more attention to himself by just standing and looking, Matthew walked to an empty seat in the back and sat down. He had to bite his lip to keep from sighing aloud in relief to have the weight off of his left knee. He rested his staff against the table, and looked around once again.

The tables that were in the center of the room were illuminated by the fire, making the people easy for Matthew to see. Reds, browns, and blacks, but no white. Matthew swept his gaze around the entire tavern once more, but it was no use. There wasn’t a man with white hair, young or old, inside.

“Damnit,” he sighed under his breath. What was he supposed to do know?

“Hello, sir.” Matthew glanced up at the waitress who was now standing beside him. She didn’t smile at him, nor did she even try to look somewhat happy to be serving him. Those smiles were reserved for alphas. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Oh, uh. Just your cheapest beer.” Matthew offered her a polite smile and then she walked away.

Well, at least it was warm in here. He sat back against the chair, and pulled his satchel off and placed it on the table. He could wait around a little longer to see if Gilbert Beilschmidt strolled inside, but if he wasn’t here now, there was a big possibility that he had missed him. He needed to talk to the man. He had been searching for someone, anyone, who knew of the whereabouts of the mystical Fae in Avalon. It was a location not even his mother Adhan knew. Matthew was sure at least one of the seven witches in her coven knew where they were located, they just wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t blame them for that. If too many people learned of their location, it would make it easier for Avalonian soldiers to find them. Finding the Fae’s location had become Matthew’s first task. It had taken three months of questions, and a few weeks of running from guards who became a bit too suspicious, before he finally asked the right person if they knew of the hiding Fae.

“I ain’t ever seen a faerie before,” the middle aged alpha woman at a bar a few towns over had said to him. “And I reckon you won’t find many here that have, though rumor claims the man named Gilbert Beilschmidt knew of one. Apparently he used to even live with that faerie.”

“Where can I find this man?” Matthew had asked, as he used his last gold coin to buy more information from the woman.

“Head west. He lives in the mountains, but comes down to the mining town directly below them from time-to-time. I can’t even tell you what the guy looks like, he’s a very secretive man.”

Now Matthew was here, in the outskirts of that very mining town, with a bit more information under his belt. But this quest to find one man was taking too long. He had not expected to have such minimal information three months into his journey. If he didn’t quicken his pace, he would be too late.

The waitress returned and placed a beer in front of him. Before Matthew could even say a ‘thanks’, the sound of glass shattering echoed through the room, along with a very angry exclamation of, “Fuck!”

The waitress quickly left his side and bustled over to the corner of the tavern, in the darkest part of the room, where a hooded man sat with a notebook open on the table and a broken tankard at his feet. “Are you alright, sir?” the waitress asked, kneeling at his side to pick up the shards of glass.

“Just fine,” the man replied in an accent unfamiliar to Matthew. “Grab me another, if you could.”

“Certainly, sir.” From the waitresses smile, the man must be an alpha. She turned and walked away with the pieces of glass in her hand. Matthew kept staring at the man. He watched as pale white hands reached for a pen beside the notebook. Even from the distance, he could see the very strong tremor in his hands.

Without much warning, the hooded man looked directly at Matthew, through strange red eyes. Matthew quickly looked down at his beer. Red eyes… could the man sitting a few tables away be Gilbert Beilschmidt? He peered back up without moving his head, only to find the man writing within the notebook. It was possible, but it was also possible that Matthew’s mind had played tricks on him, and those eyes had actually been brown or bronze. He was getting much too eager.

One of the first lessons his mother had taught him was that eagerness made people sloppy. She had been giving him lessons in spell work, but the words still rang true here. Matthew gazed at the man. He was dressed in a long black coat that looked like it was made from leather. The hood was up, hiding his hair, but Matthew could see a strong, pale jawline. He didn’t seem that broad, and for an alpha that was quite unusual. The man twitched, and Matthew looked away.

He brought his beer to his lips and took a sip, resisting the urge to gag. It was warm and watered down. He placed it back on the table and once again looked up at the table across from him. The man was gone, and so was his notebook. Matthew pushed his glasses back up, and glanced around. The cloaked man was nowhere to be seen. It was like he just vanished.

“Looking for me, kid?” a rough voice spoke behind him.

“Ah!” Matthew turned his torso as much as he could. His abrupt movement caused his staff to fall to the ground with a dull thud, but it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed from the current volume of the room. The hooded man was standing behind him, with his very red eyes glaring down at Matthew. Strands of pale hair hung above them, and over paler eyebrows. His complexion was snow-white, whiter then Matthew’s own very fair skin. No wonder he was wearing a hood, he was obviously exotic looking.

The hooded man leaned closer, his glare growing. His nostrils were flaring as he took in Matthew’s scent, a difficult task from the many different muddled scents present in the tavern. And then, he smirked. It was not a charming smirk like the ones alphas toss to omegas or female betas. It was a smirk that spoke of cruelty and punishment. Matthew felt oddly like a mouse.

The man leaned away and kicked the empty chair beside Matthew out, and fell into it. He slapped his brown-bound notebook against the table. Trying not to stare at that either, Matthew focused his gaze on the man’s face again.

“You never answered my question.” He tossed back his hood, revealing messy white hair. His smirk grew at Matthew’s widened eyes. “But that’s alright, I know you were looking for me.”

For a moment, Matthew wondered if this Gilbert Beilschmidt actually was a witch, and he had foreseen Matthew. Then he realized the man was referring to Matthew looking for him only seconds ago. He needed to calm down, before he made any sort of mistake.

“I-I was.” Matthew swallowed. That anxiety in his stomach had risen to his throat. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just… trying to see if you were who I thought you were.” That got the man to laugh. “You don’t look like you could even startle a little bird, kid.” He shot Matthew a grin, showing off a row of pearly white sharp fangs.

Matthew had to wonder if he was seeing things; after all, normal people aren’t walking around with a mouthful of sharp teeth! But the fire was casting just enough light for Matthew to see them perfectly, and he was not mistaken. This man had fangs that looked sharp as sharp as a dire wolf’s.

Matthew got the sense this man was used to being able to intimidate people, whether or not he had such a feature like fangs. Despite being lean, the alpha seemed to take up half of the table space with his presence. Matthew forced the anxieties in his throat into the pit of his stomach. He would not be deterred by the haughty personality before him. “I-I do apologize if I bothered you with my staring.” Matthew wanted to strangle himself. Stuttering was an old habit of his when he was nervous. “I was just trying to…” He closed his mouth. Should he lie? Should he not ask this man for a confirmation for who he was? Or should he damn it all to hell and ask anyway? Opening his mouth with a lie on his tongue, it dissolved quickly when the man leaned closer, resting an elbow on the table. That sharp-toothed grin was still on his face, but his eyes were empty. Not a single emotion was in those dark eyes.

“Careful with what you say. I am in no mood to play games.”

A sharp realization hit Matthew. It was midnight in a small town, and he was speaking with a man whom he did know anything about. Anything could happen to him. He could get hurt, or worse. If he was not too careful with his words, this man could very toss him to the Avalonian guards. He needed to be very careful.

Startled as he was, Matthew refused to look away. “I am looking for a man named Gilbert Beilschmidt. Someone gave me a description, and I thought your profile fit it, but I couldn’t be certain because you were wearing a hood.”

The noise within the tavern seemed to get louder in Matthew’s ears. This is not how things usually happened when he walked into taverns like these, not recently. He had learned to blend in, to join a game of cards or play a round of darts with other patrons. He spoke with them, told them he was a mere traveler on his way to see a family member, and then asked for tales surrounding the nearby lands. Hinting of mystical creatures, of books that could not be opened unless touched by the right person… yes, over the past three months, Matthew had gotten very good at lying and playing the innocent traveler.

But there was something about this man that made Matthew feel incredibly weak, like how he first felt when starting on this quest. It threw him off.

The man narrowed his eyes, and Matthew ignored the urge to squirm. He was telling the truth, he had done what this man had asked. But those teeth… if the man leaned over the table, he could sink his teeth into Matthew’s neck and tear his throat out. No one would could possibly be insane enough to do that in the middle of a crowded tavern, but these were strange times.

And there was something… almost familiar about him. The longer Matthew met this man’s gaze, the stronger that feeling became. He had met many these past three months, more people than he ever had before in his short eighteen years. Could he have met this man somewhere else along his quest?

_‘No.’_ The fire across the room no longer warmed him. _‘I’ve seen his eyes in my dreams.’_

“Here you are, sir.” The waitress from earlier placed a full mug of beer in front of the man, her face a bit puzzled by this new seating arrangement. The man did not remove his gaze from Matthew. Matthew swallowed, but his mouth was completely dry. Those red eyes watched his throat bob uselessly. And then the man leaned back and tossed the waitress a wry smirk. She took that as her cue to leave after batting her eyelashes at him.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighed, taking his elbow off of the table and getting into a much more relaxed position in his chair. Matthew watched him warily as he brought the fresh glass of beer to his lips. His hands no longer shook. He drew the beer away with a frown. “Damn stuff taste like cat piss.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver flask. After unscrewing the top, he poured some of the contents into the ale and took a large sip of the now mixed drink. He belched loudly when he was finished. “Much better!”

Matthew stared at him, confused. His attitude had done a complete turnaround, and he was no longer looking at Matthew with suspicion. _Is this man insane?_

“Sorry about that, kid.” The man kicked his dull black boots onto the table. The bottoms were caked with clay, and a bit tumbled down onto the table. “Sometimes bad people come looking for me, and I just had to make sure you weren’t one of them. I should’ve known you weren’t one in the first place since you can’t be older then fifteen.”

“Eighteen, actually.” He thanked the gods his voice didn’t break.

Is that all it had been? He studied the man, lounging so close to him without a single ounce of hostility in his body. Now that they were closer, Matthew could see his red eyes better. There was something off about them, something that didn’t seem human. They were so bright, so sharp. Matthew reached for his walking staff, and wrapped his hand around the warm wood. He made no move to get up, but he felt like he needed some sort of stability right now.

That was when he noticed something gleaming against the man’s chest, slightly sheltered by his long leather jacket. It was a large black cross with a silver outline hanging from his neck by a skinny chain. He arched an eyebrow. Well, that explained the strange eyes and fangs, but how could this man get away with wearing it in a kingdom like this? Matthew squeezed the staff as he rubbed his thumb against a rune. That wasn’t important right now. He needed to get down to business, and since it didn’t seem like this man was going to move, he must want Matthew to say something to him.

“And how can you be so certain I’m not one of them?” Matthew asked as he reached for his beer. He tried not to make a face as he drank the warm liquid.

“What, someone out to get me?” The man chuckled. “For one, you’re crippled. I doubt you could do much to me from the way you hobbled inside. Two, you’re a beta. If someone was trying to bait me into something, they would have sent an omega.” He waggled his eyebrows, then tipped his head back and drank more from his glass. His eyes widened, and he quickly drew his glass away to cough.

Matthew ducked his head to hide his small smile. “Fine. I’m harmless.”

“Shocker.” The man wiped his mouth then grinned. “So. You were looking for Gilbert Beilschmidt, yeah?”

Matthew confirmed those words with a nod. The man made a grunt and swung his legs off the table. He spread his knees and rested his forearms atop them as a smug grin made its way to his face. There was still an emptiness in his eyes. “Allow me to make a proper introduction then. You were right; I am Gilbert Beilschmidt, but I am known by many names. Beilschmidt, Drunk Bastard, Gil, Asshole; you name it, I’ve probably been called it.”

Something inside Matthew’s chest loosened at those words. This was the man he was looking for, the one who supposedly knew the location of the Fae in Avalon. Some small part of his quest was over, he was finally getting somewhere! Suppressing his excitement, and hoping the many smells of the tavern hid his excited scent, he offered a polite smile to Gilbert.

“My name is Matthew. I have been looking for you for some time.”

Gilbert arched a very pale eyebrow. They were the same shade as the hair atop his head. “And how can I provide my services to you? If it’s some kind of sword or dagger you want, I’m sorry to say that I’m taking a break from working on anything too extreme.”

He ignored the sentence. He didn’t need any sort of weapon. Matthew was speaking to Gilbert Beilschmidt for one reason. He leaned in closer, and Gilbert’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He copied Matthew’s movement. Matthew had a very strong feeling this man didn’t take him seriously at all.

“I need you to tell me the location of the Fae in Avalon.”

Gilbert’s entire body twitched. Slowly, almost unnaturally so, he blinked. His hands began shaking violently. He rotated his feet around as his legs shook, albeit with much less velocity. His eyes hardened, the red becoming a bit brighter, and his upper lip lifted, giving way to those sharp fangs. Matthew recoiled slightly. This was more than just an alpha getting defensive, this was the look of an animal about to pounce. And the animal did.

Gilbert stood abruptly, knocking his chair back to the ground. Matthew winced, and had not much time to brace himself as Gilbert grabbed his arm and yanked him out of his own chair. A surprised gasp left Matthew from the force of it all… and from the spark of familiarity that went through him.

“Wait-” But his sounds of protests went unnoticed. Matthew just clutched his staff and tried his hardest to keep up with Gilbert’s brisk movements as he shoved past tables and hauled Matthew to the door.

The cold night air blasted Matthew’s face as soon as they left the tavern, but even though they were outside, Gilbert didn’t stop moving. Matthew nearly tripped as his foot slipped across a stray pebble, and a sharp pain shot through his ruined knee.

“Please, slow down!”

Gilbert didn’t, not until they were behind the Broiled Pig. Gilbert spun around and grabbed Matthew by the shirt, and slammed his back against the wall. The force of it caused him to drop his staff. Panic began welling inside Matthew’s chest. They were outside in the back of a tavern, and the tavern was in the outskirts of a small village not many wandered into. There was nothing but mountains to the north, and a forest to the east. This man, this stranger, could get away with hurting Matthew, with killing him even. Matthew grabbed Gilbert’s wrists and tried to peel his hands off of him, but for a man so lean, it was clear there was muscle underneath his jacket.

_I need to scream for help_, Matthew thought desperately to himself. _I need other people to notice me, I need someone to stop this man! Oh gods, how could I be so foolish and look for a man I know nothing about?_

Matthew opened his mouth, prepared to scream the word _help_ as loudly as he could, but a hand slapped over his mouth. Gilbert had moved so his arm ran along the base of Matthew’s throat. 

“Shut up,” Gilbert hissed. “And if you try and move, I’m going to crush your windpipe. Nod if you understand me.”

With terror in his heart, Matthew nodded once. Gilbert did not let go of his mouth, nor did he lift the pressure from his neck. He just leaned closer and snarled quietly, right by Matthew’s covered mouth.

“You are going to tell me why you think I know anything about the Fae living in this gods’ forsaken kingdom. And then, if I decide your answer is good enough, you’re going to tell me what the hell you want with the Fae.”

His scent was overwhelming. The heavy alcohol and smoke clinging to his skin practically choked Matthew as it clogged his nose. Somehow, none of it compared to the anger in his scent.

The hand left Matthew’s mouth, and he gasped a bit in relief but this was no time to be relieved. Gilbert made it sound like if he didn’t like Matthew’s answers, he would kill him. Quickly, Matthew tried to compose himself enough to speak coherently.

“I-I was told by others in villages to the west that you lived with a Fae once. I’m not trying to harm them, I just need to find them! They are said to have something that I need. Please, believe me. I’m not trying to harm the Fae!”

Gilbert stared at him, hard. His upper lip was still pulled back, those fangs were still so close, and those eyes were still bright with so much fury. Would it even matter what he said? Would he be killed off anyway?

_No._ Matthew’s head spun. _No, if I’m killed now, Esmya will have no one._

“I-I’m a witch,” Matthew gasped out. “I come from the steppes of Glaceria! I’ve never met the Fae before but my mother has told me stories about them. I wish them no harm, I don’t wish any creature harm. I want to save them, but to do that, I need to find the place where they’re living!”

Unable to look at the wrath in Gilbert’s eyes any longer, Matthew squeezed his own shut and wondered if he should pray to the gods. That pressure against his neck deepened for a moment, before vanishing. Matthew’s body began to shake with relief as Gilbert stepped back, glaring at the ground instead of Matthew. Matthew hunched his shoulders, gasping for breath. Oh gods, the man left him go. He was no longer able to crush him.

“You,” Gilbert breathed. “are a naïve idiot.”

Still trying to get his breathing under control, Matthew wrapped his hands around his staff and let the warmth flow through him. He shakily ran a hand through his hair before trying, and failing, to glare at Gilbert. He wanted to demand to know what was wrong with the man, but nothing could come out.

Surprisingly, Gilbert moved beside him. He pulled something from the inside of his jacket. For a moment, Matthew panicked and thought it to be a dagger, but when it was fully in the open, it was nothing more than that silver flask. Gilbert unscrewed the top and leaned his head back. Once again, his hands were visibly shaking, so much that a bit of the clear liquid dripped out from the corner of his mouth. Matthew wrinkled his nose at the strong scent.

He waited silently for Gilbert to lower the flask. He was too caught off guard to speak first. He didn’t think Gilbert wanted him to speak anyway.

“Okay,” Gilbert sighed. “You heard rumors from other people that I used to live with a creature, that’s code word for what you were looking for because even muttering that word can get your tongue ripped out, so you came here looking for me so I could tell you- some stranger- where the rest of those creatures are living in Avalon.”

Matthew concentrated on the soft, cold grass below him as he nodded.

“And you expect me to give you that information, and when I don’t, you tell me that you’re a witch. I could turn you in for that sort of information, you know that? We aren’t in Glaceria, this is Avalon. And in Avalon, being a witch will get you burned.”

A small flash of anger burned its way within Matthew’s chest. He didn’t like the way he was being spoken to, as if he were nothing more than an idiotic child. He looked over at Gilbert and levelled him with a stare before flicking his gaze down to the iron cross hanging at his neck.

“Last time I checked, having some sort of tribal wear can get you more than just burned in Avalon.”

Gilbert didn’t have a quick retort for that. He narrowed his eyes at him. “There isn’t a soul left alive that remembers this symbol, no one important anyway.”

Matthew knew he should look away, he should stand down. He remembered his mother telling him to never look at an enraged animal in the eye because they would take it as a challenge. She added that the same thing applied to alphas. “After all,” she had said. “Alphas are just beasts wearing human skins.” Matthew remembered those words clearly, but he didn’t want to look away. His mother would strangle him if she knew he was being this foolish, but he refused to back down right now. So he raised his chin and glared back at Gilbert. It took him a moment to notice he had a couple inches on the other man.

With his heart beating in his throat, Matthew murmured, “I’m sure the king does.”

A threatening growl came from Gilbert, but Matthew did not look away. He knew he was gambling his chances with an obviously unstable alpha, but he could be stubborn. On more than one occasion his coven had compared him to a bull.

Finally, Gilbert looked away with a huff. “You really are a naïve brat.”

The animalistic rage he had exhibited before was gone, subdued inside of a man that barely seemed large enough to contain it all. Matthew’s suspicion had been correct then. That iron cross from his neck was the symbol of a shapeshifting tribe in the land below the mountains of Norge and Glaceria. It had been eradicated fifty years ago, not a single trace of it remained according to Matthew’s mother. Even so, Adhan had taught Matthew the different symbols of the many tribes living in the area before Avalon had conquered them. If Gilbert wore the symbol of that tribe, he must be some sort of shapeshifter, but if that were true, how was he still alive? How had he not gotten captured by Avalon?

Matthew schooled his features into a neutral one. He would look to Gilbert to decide how he would act for the rest of this conversation. “I know you don’t know me,” he murmured. “I know asking around for you was foolish, but these… creatures have something I must find. The future of Esmya depends on what they’re hiding.”

The silence stretched on, and Matthew remained quiet. Not only was he stubborn, but he was patient. A good witch always was. He watched Gilbert carefully, trying to see what the other was thinking. Gilbert was looking into the forest a few miles away, staring at the pine trees rustling in the wind. Matthew wondered what those sharp eyes could see.

“There is no future for Esmya,” Gilbert muttered bitterly. “This continent is as good as gone, and I for one will watch from the mountains as this place burns.”

Matthew tightened his grip on his staff. It did not look like this was going to be an easy conversation. “A future needs to be created. Nothing is set in stone, that’s why I need to find those creatures. They’re hiding-”

“I can tell you they aren’t hiding anything,” Gilbert snapped. “The only thing they’re hiding are themselves, from people like you who are trying to find them for selfish reasons!”

“Selfish?” Matthew stared at him. “I just told you I’m trying to find them for Esmya’s future!”

Gilbert spat out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I bet you are. I have no reason to believe you, and I definitely don’t have one single gods damn reason for giving you their location. I owe it to them.”

His voice had wavered on them. In fact, his whole demeanor shifted. Matthew wasn’t too sure why, that would be asking too personal questions, but he wondered if it had to do with the Fae he allegedly used to live with. Unless Gilbert was lying, it was quite clear he knew the location of the Fae, and he probably knew that tidbit of information from the Fae he used to live with. Matthew drew in a breath. He was going to have to fight for this information.

Right as Matthew opened his mouth to tell Gilbert just what it was the Fae were hiding, a screech exploded from the forest. Matthew flinched. Whatever had made that noise sounded like it was scared. “What was that?”

“Oh, no.” Gilbert suddenly bolted, heading straight toward the forest.

Did Gilbert know what had made that noise? He must if he was running straight for it. Matthew hesitated for a moment. This was most likely a terrible idea… To hell with it. Stupid ideas seem to be his thing anyway. He raised his fingers to his lip and whistled sharply. Then he started running. Hobbling was more like it. He moved as quickly as he could with his twisted knee, but there was no way he would be able to catch up with Gilbert. He lifted his free hand to his mouth and whistled once again. Where was he…?

A large white mass erupted from the forest’s edge, and bounded closer to Matthew. Matthew resisted the urge to smile. There was his familiar. Gilbert let out a shout as the white dire bear raced past him, so close that the man actually tripped. The bear didn’t stop until he was right in front of Matthew. Matthew’s knee was already aching from his small spurt, so he leaned heavily against Kumajirou.

“Thanks for waiting,” he murmured, patting Kuma’s side. “Did you hear that sound? I need you to take us to it.”

Kuma grunted and sank to the ground. There wasn’t any sort of saddle on Kuma’s back, so Matthew had to lay his staff on the ground to put both of his hands on Kuma’s back. With a small grunt, he lifted himself up and over, with both of his legs dangling from one side. He gripped his twisted knee with two hands and hauled that over to the other side, straddling the dire bear. Kuma took his staff into his mouth, and turned his head to give it to Matthew.

Matthew smiled through the slight pain his knee was in. “Thank you. Now, go.”

For a creature his size, Kuma could run pretty fast. In no time he had caught up to Gilbert. Gilbert skidded to a halt, his eyes wide. “What the hell?!”

Kuma stopped and Matthew reached out a hand. “Get on.”

Gilbert stared at Matthew’s outstretched hand. Matthew knew he was suspicious; Matthew wasn’t even sure what the hell they were running for. But if there was someone in trouble, especially if it was some sort of animal, he wanted to help. “I’m going to help you.”

Another screech sounded, this time it was higher pitched. Something was wrong. Gilbert grimaced. “Fine.” He took Matthew’s hand and hauled himself on Kuma’s back. “How the hell are you able to control this thing?”

“I’ll explain later.” Kuma took off again, and Gilbert lurched forward behind Matthew. He gripped Matthew’s sides, but his scent wasn’t filled with fear. Just anticipation and dread. “What’s making that noise?” Matthew asked over the wind blowing past them as Kuma charged closer to the forest. “And why were you running toward it?”

“It’s Gilbird.” If the circumstances were different, Matthew may have laughed. “That cry means he’s in trouble. He always hangs out in these woods while I’m at the Broiled Pig, but something, or someone must have found him.”

What kind of bird was able to cry that loudly?

Kuma raced into the forest, following the scent of Gilbird. Here he had to slow down. Kuma was a growing dire bear, he could not move swiftly in forest like a wolf or lynx. His galloping pace changed to a slower trot. Matthew could hear other noises now. The closer they moved to the scent of Gilbird, the more he heard.

The shrieking started again, and it was near deafening from how close they were. “Stop here,” Gilbert growled. Without waiting for Kuma to fully halt, he jumped off and raced toward the bushes. Matthew gritted his teeth. Gilbert was being far too irrational. He maneuvered his legs before getting off of Kuma and joining Gilbert.

Oh. Now wonder Gilbert hadn’t seemed nervous on Kuma. Standing before them was a huge pure black gryphon. Its talons, peak, and eyes were golden, and they gleamed in the faint moonlight streaming in through the trees. Matthew had never seen a gryphon up close, he had only heard legends of them. But there was one right here, in this forest, and it was tangled in some sort of rope. Four people were in front of it, all with weapons in their hands and dressed completely in black.

One of them whistled. “What a price this’ll fetch. Haven’t ever seen a beauty this color before!”

“These buzzards are native to the mountains,” another said, reaching to poke the gryphon with some kind of stick. “Wonder what he’s doin’ down here.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the third one announced. “Todd’ll be here with the horses and wagon soon. That should be enough to carry him to the next town.”

“Those aren’t guards,” Matthew whispered.

“Poachers,” Gilbert hissed. He made a move to get up. “After _my_ Gilbird.”

“No, stop!” Matthew grabbed the end of Gilbert’s jacket and tugged him back down. Gilbert whirled on him, anger sparking in his gaze. His scent was oozing it too. “You can’t just walk in without some sort of plan. There’s four of them and only one of you. Just how much damage do you think you could do to them?”

Gilbert’s upper lip pulled back again. He shook his head, his movements beastly once again. Matthew had no doubt he would shred those poachers with his fangs alone if he wanted to. Wait…

“Gilbert,” he hissed quietly. “If you shift, you and Kuma should be able to take down those guards by yourselves. Can you do that?”

Once again, Gilbert turned his gaze on Matthew. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his lips were curved down. Even though he didn’t look happy, Gilbert seemed just a bit impressed. He reached for the pendant at his neck. “I’m only part shapeshifter, I don’t have any other form to change into.”

Well, there goes that idea. Matthew had to come up with another one quickly or Gilbird would be taken away. Gilbert wanted to go out there and fight, but he obviously didn’t have a sword with him. Little daggers weren’t going to do anything against their bows and hunting knives. Matthew closed his eyes. He didn’t want to send Kuma out there by himself. What in the gods’ names could he do?

“Smell that?” one of the poachers asked. The three others loudly sniffed the air. “Who the hell’s there? We can smell ya!”

Gilbird let out a warning cry, no doubt telling his friend to run away.

“Shit,” Gilbert growled softly. “I can’t just sit here, I have to do something.”

He reached for Matthew’s staff to help him off of the ground, and right as his hand touched it, the runes began to glow and it warmed under Matthew’s own hand. Matthew’s eyes widened. It hadn’t done that since that one night… An idea formed in Matthew’s head. He grabbed Gilbert once again and dragged him down. Gilbert opened his mouth to snarl, but it was Matthew’s turn to slap his hand over his mouth.

“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

Another poacher laughed. “Quit your movin’ around and just come on out! Don’t worry, we won’t hurt ya.” He snickered. “Not much, anyway.”

What other choice did Gilbert have? Matthew looked him right in the eye, desperately willing him to understand. There was hot rage in Gilbert’s eye, but it was slowly beginning to disappear. Gilbert nodded.

A minute later, Matthew emerged from the bushes. He had his staff in hand, and the hood of his light brown cape was pulled over his head, shrouding his face in shadows. The poachers stared him before one laughed. “Just a cripple. Nothin’ to worry about.”

“Cripples can still talk, you dumbass,” another snapped, pointing his hunting dagger at Matthew. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t, don’t you worry.”

“I am not the one who needs to worry,” Matthew said, making his voice as deep he could. “I am the protector of this forest, the guardian of the animals here. And you four have made me very angry.”

The poachers looked at him in shock, until one started laughing again. “Oh, gods. Is he for real?”

“This guy’s delusional.”

Calmly, Matthew continued, “Believe whatever you want, it does not matter that the ignorant fools of Avalon do not know a guardian when they see one. You, however, for harming one of my creatures, will feel my wrath.” He lifted his staff and pointed it at the poachers. They didn’t even flinch. “I control the beasts of this forest, and they will deliver my rage upon you.”

One of the poachers shifted uncomfortably, but the other three were unfazed. One of them spit on the ground. “This guy might be a witch. Look at them runes on his stick. Turning in a witch has its rewards too.”

Matthew placed his staff back down. He did not need to look down to see the hand poking its way out of the bushes to grip the base of the staff. The runes along the oak began glowing, and the wood itself grew very warm. Now the poachers looked nervous.

“What the hell is that?”

“You will feel my wrath,” Matthew growled. He lifted his free hand. “The creatures of this forest will deliver it!”

Kuma exploded from the bushes. He opened his mouth and let out an earth shattering roar, saliva dripping from his fangs. Two of the poachers actually dropped their weapons in pure shock, and one turned around and ran away. The two that had dropped their weapons backed away, one of them whispering, “Witch.”

Kuma charged, heading right for them. One of them tried putting an arrow against their bow, but he was shaking too badly to do it correctly. The other two fled with screams on their lips. The last one finally dropped his own weapons and ran away, Kuma roaring as he ran after them.

A heartbeat passed before Gilbert sprang up from within the bushes. He was laughing. “Oh gods, oh _gods_, that was great!” He shook his head. “They actually thought you were some guardian of the forest! Gods damn, that was almost too perfect.” He slapped Matthew on the back, grinning widely. “Nice thinking, kid! I can’t believe that stupid idea worked but hey, not bad.” He hurried away to attend Gilbird, leaving Matthew where he was.

Matthew pulled his hood down, chuckling a bit himself. He couldn’t believe such an idea worked either, but it had, and it had sent the poachers running through the forest in terror with a huge dire bear on their heels. He looked down at the staff, no longer glowing. The chuckle died on his tongue. Why had it started glowing when Gilbert touched it? The last time it glowed had been the night he awoke from that dream, with the darkness and the armies and the king with a crown of fire. Adhan had touched the staff after that and it had no glowed. So why glow now? Matthew looked up. Gilbert had gotten all of the rope off of Gilbird, and the gryphon was standing up with his large head against Gilbert’s chest.

“Don’t scare me like that, boy!” Gilbert was chiding. “Next time that happens, you gotta fly away before they get you! Not that something like that will happen again, I’ll make sure of it.”

His voice no longer held a deep growl to it, the sneer on his face was gone, and his hands looked gentle as they brushed over Gilbird’s face. Gilbert was a different man right now.

Images flew through Matthew’s mind. One of Gilbert running around with a child on his shoulders, another of him teaching a faceless young man how to correctly stand as he fired an arrow, and the last one was one he had seen before… of Gilbert lying down beside him, staring at him with red eyes that held so many strange emotions in them. He said a name, a name Matthew couldn’t quite decipher, but his voice was deep with those same emotions in his gaze. His body felt warm, his heart was pounding, and his head was whirling. He blinked and those images were gone. He was thankful for them. Yes, he knew those red eyes had been familiar. He really had seen glimpses of Gilbert in short, quick visions.

Matthew shivered. What kind of future did Gilbert have? His gaze found its way back to Gilbert, and he was surprised to see the other was looking at him. That soft emotion was gone from his face even as he still stroked Gilbird’s cheek. The harshness of his expression had returned, and his voice was gruff as he spoke, “Thank you.”

And then Matthew was no longer standing in the forest. He was at the front of a crowd with the sun beaming down below. Trees dipped down, arching over a street. People were crying, they were screaming in joy, and they were shouting names Matthew could not understand. There was a flag waving in the wind- no. Almost everyone in the crowd was waving the same flag as they cried out for whoever was walking along the street. Matthew looked around, trying to get as much information as he could, but most everything was blurry, including the people he was standing next to.

“All hail our Queen and King!”

Matthew looked back at the street, and the figures became clear. Gilbert was walking down the street with two individuals behind him. He had a flag gripped in his hands and was waving it proudly, a march in his step. His eyes were clear as he moved. Matthew tried his hardest to see who was behind Gilbert. They walked side-by-side and crowns gleamed atop their heads, but he could make out no more. They moved closer, and closer, until Gilbert was directly in front of Matthew. He smiled. _“Thank you.”_

The vision disappeared and Matthew was back in the forest. He placed a hand on his head, wavering just a bit. A vision… a vision of a man leading a king and queen through the streets. What… no. Could Gilbert have something to do with the Once and Future King and his queen? Matthew looked back at Gilbert, only to find the man still staring at him.

“What was that all about?” Gilbert asked.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just tired.” Matthew could not tell Gilbert he was a prophet. It was bad enough he had told him he was a witch, telling him his true identity was out of the question.

Gilbert’s stare hardened for a moment, and then he shook his head. He walked over to Matthew, Gilbird staying where he was. “Okay, fine.” He looked down at the staff in Matthew’s grip. “Does it usually glow when other people touch it?”

“No.” Matthew narrowed his eyes at it. “It glowed once, nine years ago, but this is a first. I’m wondering…”

“Wondering what?”

Matthew looked directly into Gilbert’s eyes. “If it means something about you.” He could supply no more than that, for he knew no more than that.

A breeze rolled through the forest. Everything was silent around them, save for the rustling of the branches far above them. Gilbert crossed his arms and lifted his chin. Matthew couldn’t guess what was going through his head right now. It felt like a lot of things had happened before either had much time to process anything at all. “I don’t know if I really believe you’re who you say you are.” For a moment, undefinable fear clawed its way through Matthew’s stomach. There was no way Gilbert could actually know his true identity. That was… no. He couldn’t. Regardless, Matthew still held his breath. “I guess it would be more accurate to say, I don’t really believe what you say you are.” Matthew loosened it. Gilbert hadn’t been implying his past at all.

“But I want you to answer this question, witch,” Gilbert continued, narrowing his eyes. “Why did you follow me? And why did you want to help? If you were just hoping I’d give you the location of those creatures, you’re mistaken.”

“No,” Matthew said immediately. “I didn’t help you for that.” He looked up at Gilbird. The gryphon blinked at him with bright amber eyes. He was a bit smaller than images had depicted other gryphons. He was small enough to make Matthew wonder if he were just a young gryphon. “I was worried there might be an animal in danger, and I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help. Witches are close to nature, we protect each other.”

Gilbert didn’t say anything to that. Instead he turned his head to look at the part of the forest where Kuma had disappeared. “And you have a dire bear because…”

“Kumajirou is my familiar.”

Gilbert hummed. He looked back at Matthew, an eyebrow arched. He had a very intense look on his face. Matthew resisted the urge to shift away from that stare, especially after those images had flashed through his mind just a bit earlier.

“I don’t know if I should trust you, or that staff of yours, but if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have gotten Gilbird back so quickly. I’m going to offer you a place to stay for the night, and then we’ll go from there.”

Matthew almost didn’t believe his ears. Gilbert was offering him actual shelter? He wasn’t turning him away anymore! No, Matthew couldn’t get too excited. Gilbert had threatened to break his windpipe earlier. Could he really trust a man like that? Then Matthew thought of the Gilbert he had seen in his visions; the Gilbert playing with a child, the Gilbert leading a king and queen down a roaring street, and the Gilbert that had looked at Matthew with so many emotions in his gaze… Matthew could trust that Gilbert.

“I would be forever grateful,” he said softly.

Gilbert nodded. “Great. Oh, but I can’t take your bear there. Gilbird isn’t strong enough for that.”

“That’s okay. Kuma always knows where I am, it’s part of what makes him my familiar.” It took a moment for Matthew’s tired brain to take it what had just been said. “Wait, what?”

Gilbert uncrossed his arms and stared at Matthew with a wicked grin and gleaming eyes. He seemed to relish in the slightly panicked tone Matthew had just spoken with. Alphas were beasts, indeed. “We gotta ride Gilbird to get there!” 

“I-I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Gilbert snorted. “Oh? What happened to that brave attitude from before? You stood your own against an alpha just fine! And you didn’t seem to hesitate to ride a dire bear. Don’t tell me that was all for show.”

His face flushed. No matter who Gilbert turned out to be in the future, Matthew did not like him in the present. He glared at Gilbert, who just smirked back. “What a feisty little beta you are.” He turned around and walked over to Gilbird, shoving a hand into his pocket as he went.

Matthew stared at him, and then at the huge gryphon. This man really was insane. He was starting to wonder if Gilbert only had two emotions, unchecked rage and infuriating arrogance. He truly did not understand why such a man would offer him a place to stay.

“You coming or what?” Gilbert called.

Matthew drew in a breath. Now wasn’t the time. He would get Gilbert to tell him where those Fae were hiding. He needed them, Esmya’s future depended on it.

_I just have to make sure I don’t die on this thing before we get there_, Matthew thought before walking over to Gilbert and his awaiting gryphon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit late on this chapter, and I apologize for that. I was incredibly busy last week and had no time to write. The good news is next week is Thanksgiving Break, so I plan to write to my heart's content. I might even start on a new UKUS story.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos!


	4. Weapon Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delayed update. I am officially off from school for the next month so expect another update soon!

The Wolf looked at the mountain range that rested as the backdrop of the mining town he had just stepped foot in, his sharp eyes taking in the great peaks that reached so high, it looked like they were trying to penetrate the sky.

This town, its name so unremarkable he didn’t even bother with it, was the northernmost town in Avalon, resting right beside the border they shared with Glaceria. It explained the change in terrain from rolling valleys and oak forests to rocky ground and pine trees. The Wolf tilted his head back and inhaled the air. The smell of coal and smoke was heavy in the air, indicating to the mines at the west of this shabby town. He snorted. Unremarkable, indeed.

He stared at the sky, a couple of stars still twinkling above. Behind the mountains, the sun was slowly crawling through the sky, causing hues of pink and gold to dance throughout the otherwise dark canvas. Someone long ago had told him that’s all the sky was, just a blank canvas the gods decided to paint in order to make the time of day. Such a gentle and artistic approach to nature… who had told him that again?

He snorted and looked away. It did not matter, what mattered was this town. He brushed his knuckle against his black uniform and continued down the path, walking past the shabby buildings without a backward glance. While smoke and coal was the main scent in the air, there was another one. Faint and a few days old, it was still there, hanging in the air. It smelt of rain, herbs, and the forest. It was a scent the Wolf had been tracking for two months now, and it apparently belonged to a boy with lavender eyes and blond hair, and a limp in his step if his tracks were anything to go by. A boy that has been asking too many questions about a Fae tribe in Avalon, who has been traveling from town to town and paying for silence in taverns late at night. One would have to pay much more than a few gold coins for the promise of silence against his oversized Zweihander.

This boy had garnered enough attention for the local garrison to contact His Majesty King Alexander, and he had immediately sent the Wolf out with ten other elite shapeshifters. The Wolf found the boy’s sent in a tavern many towns back, where the sheets he had laid it had not been washed. He caught his scent of rain and herbs, and followed it here. Mingling with his scent was that of a beast, along with a couple pieces of white fur the Wolf had collected along the way. The scent was always the same, meaning the boy was traveling with a white-furred animal. The scent of the beast was not canine, it was a rare one, leading the Wolf to assume the boy was a witch and the animal was a familiar. All the more reason to catch him.

The Wolf paused when he saw a young woman walking toward him. Despite the cold, her dress was very revealing with her chest practically spilling out. Something along his skin crawled in disgust. As King Alexander’s top general, he was constantly given omegas, but every single time he refused them. He did not want him. They were nothing to him.

“G-good morning, sir,” the young omega said as she bowed her head. “Your uniform has the emblem of H-His Majesty’s army on it. Is it proper for such a high ranking officer to be without a horse?”

Her scent was coated with perfume. A worker for the local brothel or the tavern, who knew? The Wolf did not care. He glanced behind him, looking for the rest of his patrol. They were most likely still sleeping where he had left them hours ago. He wanted to keep moving while they rested. Unlike him, they would be swayed by displays such as this.

“Um, sir? Have you been at it all night? Would you like to come with me to rest?” She stepped closer, lifting a hand to touch his upper arm. The touch sent a shock through him, and the woman disappeared entirely.

In her replace stood a man, beauty etched in every part of him. His smile was gleaming and bright, like the sun itself. His eyes were wide as he ran his hand up and down the Wolf’s arm. “Come with me!” His voice was as gentle and sweet as chiming bells. “You have to taste what I made. I know you’ll love it!”

Something dark crept within his mind, destroying the image in front of him. The slab of black stone around the Wolf’s neck seemed to tighten as the pictures in his head grew darker, feeding him with carnage and gore. Gone were those loving eyes and that sweet voice. Nothing but screams and widened horror filled eyes were left inside of him. And that damn woman’s hand on his arm.

The black stone relaxed its grip on him as he yanked himself from her touch. He glared down at her, and she stepped back. “Do not touch me.” His voice was deep and gravelly. He resisted the urge to snarl at her. He did not want to be touched by these omegas, not now, not ever. “And when my men come this way, do not throw yourself at them. We are soldiers of His Majesty, not travelers that crave your attention.”

The omega dipped her head. “A-apologies, sir.”

The Wolf was about to stalk away from her, but it dawned on him she might know something, or she might at least know where he could find the tavern. He glared down at her lowered form. The image was not replaced with that beautiful man from before. The black stone around his neck tightened as if in warning, but it did not need to. The Wolf had his mind back under control.

“Tell me where your tavern is.”

The woman nodded, and began rattling off directions. All the while, the Wolf could feel his trail getting smaller and smaller. He was almost upon the boy asking too many questions. A crippled boy could not climb over those mountains, but the Wolf, with all his strength in his human and beastly form, could make the trip over an entire mountain in one day.

.

Matthew was going to take the damn axe in his hands and behead Gilbert.

He gritted his teeth as he raised the thing over his head and brought it down on the piece of wood atop the large stump. It split in two, the insides jagged and splintered. Matthew swallowed back his cry of frustration. His exhausted arms were making him sloppy, and the sloppier he was, the more work he had to do.

He placed the axe down to toss the wood into the bad pile, which was, by far, larger than the good pile. This was ridiculous. By now, he was at his wit’s end. It was only an hour past dawn, and sweat was already sticking to him.

This had been his routine for the past two weeks, the two weeks he has been living with Gilbert in his shack. Two weeks ago, when Gilbird had landed and Matthew had fallen to the ground in an embarrassed heap from his less than pleasant flying experience, they had spoken over a round of left over soup Gilbert had made the night before.

“You want my help so badly?” Gilbert asked. “You gotta prove yourself to me before I tell you anything, okay? I’ll even let you live here, but you need to earn my trust.”

It made sense. This information was obviously precious to Gilbert, something he would never hand free to strangers. So Matthew asked what he could do to prove himself, and Gilbert explained the list of chores he did.

“I sell firewood. Chop up enough logs to fill up the cart, tie them together in sets of three, and I’ll take them to town. That’s all you gotta do.”

_'‘That’s all'’, my ass,’_ Matthew thought bitterly.

When he started this two weeks ago, he had spent all day working on filling up the cart. Up and down, down and up, the axe had gone. It threw off his balance, and on more than one occasion, he had slipped and slammed his left knee into the ground. His body had been aching by the end, and when he awoke the next morning he couldn’t lift his arms. This kind of grueling work was not something he was used to. Witches walked long distances, they did not swing heavy axes all day long.

There have been some benefits to this work, that being his arms have gotten significantly harder. When he ran his hand along his biceps, they had form to them. His skin was tanner too, from the bright winter sun shining down upon him all day long. He was tan enough that freckles danced along his nose. Aside from his appearance, there was nothing to be pleased about. He felt like this was all for nothing. Hell, he had barely even spoken to Gilbert for these two weeks!

Matthew glared at the small shack. _‘The bastard is probably still snoring away. I won’t even see him until noon!’_

He reached for the axe, but stopped halfway. What was the point? How was chopping wood for two weeks straight going to show Gilbert his intentions were good? He had a sneaking suspicion he had been put to work just so Gilbert could slack off.

_‘I’ll ask him when he wakes up. If he skirts around the issue, I’m just going to have to leave. I’ve wasted too much time here. Who knows how far along the King’s plans are?’_ Matthew shivered at the thought of that growing army of darkness. It had been nine years since that fateful vision, but nine years was not long enough to forget the fear bubbling inside of him as he stared at those creatures from hell. They could only be stopped by the Once and Future King… and the only way for Matthew to find the rightful king was to obtain the item the Fae of Avalon were apparently hiding. Or so, he had been told by his visions years ago…

Gods, he hoped this wasn’t some wild goose chase.

Running a hand through his hair, Matthew heaved a small sigh. He looked down at the axe, and resisted the urge to scoff at an inanimate object. He wasn’t going to chop anymore wood until he gave Gilbert a piece of his mind. He walked away from the axe and wood to retrieve his staff leaning against the shack. He felt a small pang in his heart as he wrapped his calloused hand around it. Once, it had been as familiar as an old friend, but now it was just another piece to a quickly growing puzzle. Why had the runes glowed when Gilbert touched it?

Matthew did have a couple of ideas. There was the fact in one of his visions, Gilbert had been leading a king and queen through the streets, a king and queen that were clearly loved and accepted by their people. There was the possibility that the king and queen were the rightful rulers of Avalon, but he had seen pictures of Avalon’s capital Camelot, and it looked nothing like his vision. He chewed on his bottom lip. Gilbert’s future seemed grand within his visions, but where would it lead him? Since the staff glowed, it must mean he had something to do with the Once and Future King, right? Matthew did not know for sure.

Thankfully, Gilbert hadn’t questioned it after the incident in the forest, but Matthew could not stop thinking about it. Nine years ago, it had glowed for the first time after he woke up from his vision about the Once and Future King. The runes glowed when he touched it, but after that night they never glowed again, not until Gilbert touched it. The question kept Matthew up on more than one occasion, even though his body had begged him for sleep.

“What secrets are you hiding from me?” He ran a thumb over one of the runes, trying to feel any sort of power from it. As usual, all he could feel was the familiar warmth. At least that was still there.

There was a grumble, and Matthew looked away from his staff to the familiar sound. He smiled when he met Kumajirou’s violet gaze, and walked over to his familiar.

“Hey, there Kuma.” He ran a hand behind Kuma’s head and scratched his ear. The dire bear grumbled in delight and pressed his chin on top of Matthew’s head, and then he tilted his head to the side and nipped at a piece of Matthew’s hair. He chuckled. “Are you trying to get me to stop working? I am, I am. Don’t worry.”

Another noise sounded through the air, this one sounding like an eagle’s cry. Kuma stepped around to Matthew’s side, allowing him to look at the black gryphon descending to the ground. Despite Gilbird’s young age of ten months- Matthew had been right about that- he was huge. Matthew had nearly thrown up three different times when he rode him two weeks ago, but on the ground Gilbird was friendly. Matthew smiled as the gryphon landed, something clutched in one of his talons.

“Good morning, Gilbird,” Matthew said happily. “A nice day for hunting, I see.”

Gripped in Gilbird’s front talons was a mountain goat. Gilbird let out a small cry of satisfaction and lowered his head for Matthew. His smile grew as he stroked the spot between Gilbird’s eyes. The gryphon’s golden eyes closed as he let Matthew pet him, and he blew out a contented sigh through his beak. It was no surprise Gilbird liked him. Witches and nature protected each other, and that included animals too. It probably helped that Matthew had helped save Gilbird, too.

Matthew stepped back to inspect the bleeding prey. “That lazy bastard. He makes everyone do his work, huh?” Gilbird squawked, and butted Matthew’s shoulder playfully. “Okay, fine. I won’t complain about your master in front of you.”

Kuma let out a small noise and stood on his back legs to paw at Gilbird’s beak. Gilbird placed the goat, which would certainly be Matthew and Gilbert’s breakfast, to nip at Kuma. Matthew smiled fondly at the dire bear and gryphon. At least Kuma had made friends with someone.

A giggle passed through the air.

Matthew froze. His eyes were still on the two beasts, but neither one made any sort of indication they had heard anything unusual. He glanced around, wondering if Gilbert had woken up, then felt foolish. That giggle had been child-like. He could not see such a brutish man giggle like that. He looked at the staff. Did it come from his staff? No… it had sounded distant. He closed his eyes, listening for it. The wind blew in the top of the trees, a couple of birds called to each other in the distance, Kuma and Gilbird were still playing together… there. It was faint, but he could hear the sound of someone giggling.

Matthew opened his eyes and walked away from the beasts, following the faint noise. Most of his visions took place within his head, but on rare occasions he heard things in the real world that led him to one. Unless there was a child hiding somewhere here, that’s what this was.

The laughter led him to a small brick structure behind Gilbert’s shack. Matthew paused. Gilbert had flippantly told him this place was where he used to work on tools, but he no longer did any sort of silversmith trade. Matthew pressed his ear against the door. The giggling was definitely coming from inside. He hoped Gilbert would understand. He opened the door, and just like that, the laughter stopped. Matthew pushed his glasses up, sneezing as dust hit him in the face. When was the last time anyone had wandered in here?

He wiped his nose and stepped inside. “Um, hello? Is anyone there?” No one answered. Nothing moved at all. Unless someone truly was hiding, the voice was coming from his mind.

Lanterns hung from the ceiling by chains, and a huge fireplace was in the corner. The faint smell of smoke tickled Matthew’s nose, but there was no way anyone had stoked a fire in at least an entire month. With a backward glance to make sure Gilbert wasn’t awake, Matthew walked further inside. The morning sunlight bathing the opening gave just enough light for Matthew to see, and what he saw took his breath away. Above a desk scattered with tools, were two swords crossing each other nailed to the brick wall. He moved closer, his eyes widening. He was no expert on swords, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. The handles were tied in leather, and the hilts were cut to look like a howling wolf’s head. There was a layer of dust on the blades themselves, but parts of them glittered in the faint sunlight. Were these made by Gilbert?

He looked around. There were weapons all over the place! Swords of all different sizes rested against the walls, some were laying in the dirt. There were a couple of huge battle axes, too. One monstrous one was painted in deep red. The little axe Matthew had been swinging seemed light compared to that thing. As Matthew walked around the small structure, he noticed a pattern. By far, the things that littered the floor the most were arrows. He bent over to pick one up. He dusted the iron tip off and ran his fingers across the small stick. He pressed his thumb against the tip, recoiling when he felt a drop of blood. This thing was _sharp_.

Still holding onto the arrow, Matthew continued looking around. He walked over to the corner where a longbow rested. Leather was wrapped around the center where one would put their hand. Matthew picked it up and wrapped his own hand around it, noting how worn the leather was. He wondered if this was the weapon of Gilbert’s choice, considering how used it felt. Why was it just collected dust in the corner? Why were any of these weapons collecting dust? What the hell was Gilbert doing selling _firewood_ when he made things like these? It was obvious the alpha was gifted!

Matthew placed the bow back down and continued walking until he was at the desk. There was a strange looking contraption resting on it. Matthew had never read anything about something like this before. It looked like some sort of bow, but it was deformed. There was a piece of dark brown wood that looked to be about the length of a long arm. At the top of the wood were arches made from iron in the shape of a bow, with a tight rope tied to the two sides. At the tip of the wood were two iron points that looked like two pieces of a trident. Matthew looked at the arrow in his hand and placed it atop the strange bow. The iron tip of the arrow completed the three pointed trident. His eyes widened. This was a bow. Did Gilbert make this thing?

If so, Gilbert wasn’t just a silversmith. He was a weapon master.

What had made Gilbert stop making such grand weapons as these? It wasn’t any of his business, but the curiosity gnawed at Matthew like a hungry coyote. He looked around the rest of the desk. There were pages scattered around with designs along them that seemed to mirror the weapon on the table. Gilbert really had made this from scratch. Tools and pens were lying about too, along with… Matthew narrowed his eyes and pushed some of the tools aside to get to the item. On the corner of the desk was an iron cross, just like the one Gilbert wears.

“He has two?” Matthew wondered out loud.

Someone giggled, and it sounded like they did it right in front of him. Matthew straightened. The giggling was coming from that iron cross. He reached for the pendant, and as soon as his fingers brushed over it, flashes sparked within his vision.

_A young boy with white hair and a boy with blond hair, running through a valley with laughter falling from their lips. The air tasted of freedom and childhood wonder._

_“Can’t catch me!” the boy with white hair exclaimed. “See? I’m the fastest in the whole forest!”_

_“I can too!” the blond boy shouted. “Watch!”_

_The two giggled as they galloped across the valley, shouting and egging each other on with fond taunts. And then that valley erupted into flame._

“Matthew! Where’d you go wandering off to?” That was Gilbert’s voice.

The iron cross fell from Matthew’s hand, landing back on the desk. Without any time to contemplate what he had just seen, Matthew hobbled away from the desk, trying to get out of the building, but Gilbert appeared in the doorway before he could.

Gilbert was dressed in brown pants and his scuffed black boots. He had his long black leather jacket on, too, with its many buttons down all the way up to his neck. In his grip was a flask, even though it was so early in the morning. He arched an eyebrow when his eyes landed on Matthew, and Matthew visibly flinched. He had been caught snooping. There was no way he would be able to earn Gilbert’s trust now. He opened his mouth, ready to swallow his pride and apologize profusely, when a small smirk made its way to Gilbert’s face.

“Couldn’t resist looking, huh?” He walked past Matthew, their arms brushing. Matthew did not miss the way Gilbert yanked his own back, as if the touch shocked him. “I’m surprised it took you this long.”

Matthew blinked. “What?”

Gilbert laughed. “Come on! An ominous building behind my place that I never go into? I was honestly expecting you to come sniffing around the second day you were here, not the second week!”

“You’re… not mad to find me in here?” Matthew didn’t understand. He had just been caught in a place that he had not been invited to. Gilbert could mistake this for some kind of ill-intention, and kick him out for good. Why was he acting like this wasn’t such a big deal?

“Why would I be?” Gilbert walked over to the desk and placed his drink down. “If I didn’t want you in here, I would have locked this place up or told you to never step foot inside. I didn’t do either.”

Upon thinking back, Matthew realized Gilbert never had told him to stay out. He opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say but Gilbert’s loud, baritone laugh beat him to it. “Damn, you should see the look on your face! It isn’t a big deal, kid, unless you stole something. I’d be pretty pissed about that. Is that why you looked so surprised?”

“N-no.” A small smile came to Matthew’s lips. That was close. “I was honestly worried you would kick me out.”

“No.” Gilbert was surprisingly quick to answer. “Not for this. It isn’t like I’m harboring any sort of secrets in here.”

Matthew looked at the strange bow and the iron cross on the desk. He wasn’t too sure about that. He was too relieved to question that statement though, so he said nothing about it. Instead, a small silence appeared, stretching around them. It was weird. Despite living together for two weeks, Matthew didn’t know what to say to the man. They spoke over breakfast and that was it. Their conversations were meaningless, too. Nothing important was ever said. Matthew felt like he should say something, though, especially since Gilbert was being rather kind. At least to Matthew he was.

“Did you make these?” he finally asked.

Gilbert looked up from his desk, his red eyes landing on Matthew. Such emptiness. He may smirk, he may jeer and grin, but there is never anything in those eyes. “I did. I can make anything from a bastard sword to a halberd.” It was funny. For once, there was not a drop of arrogance in the alpha’s tone.

“That’s… that’s incredible.”

“Nah.” Gilbert sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. He looked down at the bow on the desk and picked it up. Matthew watched him run his hands across the wood. His hands were slow and gentle, almost like he was caressing the weapon instead of analyzing it. “Anyone could do it with practice.”

“Maybe,” Matthew said, leaning against his staff to keep the weight off of his left knee. “But you can always tell when something was made with love and pride, compared to something that’s made just because it’s your job.”

Those hands stopped for a second, before they continued. Gilbert huffed, his eyes flicking back to Matthew. “I didn’t think you were someone that knew anything about weapons.”

“I’m not,” he quickly said. “I guess I’m just observant.” No, anyone could see the weapons strewn around were made with love and pride. It was clear by the way Gilbert cradled the bow in his hands. “What is that thing you’re holding?”

Gilbert straightened and held it out so the sunlight caught it. It shook a bit in his grip. “This is a crossbow, the only one of its kind. It’s a lot easier to fire than a longbow, I made sure of that. See, you hold it like this.” Gilbert placed one hand below the top on the underside, and raised it so the back of it was pressing against his shoulder. He twisted his torso as he slid his other hand at the bottom of the crossbow, right over an iron bar. Matthew hadn’t noticed that when it was just laying within it. “Then you pull the trigger.” Gilbert pushed up on the bar and something clicked. “If the bolt was in it, it would have gone flying right past you.”

Matthew could only stare. This was much more advanced than the things he had read about in books. “Wow,” he murmured, entranced as he watched Gilbert set the crossbow back down. “You made this? All by yourself?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.” He slid off the desk and shot Matthew a small grin. “Like I said, it’s the only one of its kind. I wanted to make something like this for years, and I finally finished it a couple months ago. Pretty sweet, huh?”

“Yeah!” Matthew blurted out. “It’s awesome!”

“Why, thank you.” He took his flask and tipped his head back to drink some. Unfortunately, Gilbert seemed to be a drunk. Matthew assumed that’s why his hands shook like they did. How could someone with hands as shaky as his complete such work?

“You can have anything in here, by the way.” Gilbert’s words startled Matthew beyond reason. His eyes widened as Gilbert began walking out. “Take it as my gratitude for your help with the lumber.”

_Wait._ Is that the thanks Gilbert thought Matthew wanted? Just a weapon? He hurried after Gilbert, leaving behind the iron cross. He made a mental note to look at again tonight, after Gilbert went to bed. Right now, he had other things to worry about.

“As much as I would appreciate it, a weapon is not why I’ve been working for you.” Matthew moved aside as Gilbert closed the doors of the shop. “I need to know the location of the Fae. That’s what you promised me once I earn your trust, and I thought that’s what I’ve been doing as I slave away doing your work. I need to know, Gilbert. I have to.”

The wind blew through the mountain, chilling Matthew to the bone. Though Gilbert’s back was facing him, Matthew wondered if he had been a bit too forward. Gilbert was protective of this information, perhaps he should have asked a bit more nicely.

_‘No,’_ a part of Matthew whispered to himself. _‘You’ve been nice. Every day that passes by that you don’t know who the Once and Future King is, is a day that Avalon’s army grows stronger. This information is vital. You aren’t going to let one drunk man stop you from obtaining what needs to be found.’_

Gilbert turned around, his eyes narrowed. “Look, kid. You haven’t told me why you need them other than screaming about Esmya’s future. ‘They have something that will save Esmya!’ Oh, whatever. You can spit that nonsense for however long you want, but it isn’t enough. I need a little more than that if I’m going to give you their location. I think you’re a swell guy, but that isn’t enough either. Sorry.”

Matthew’s head began to spin. Gilbert claimed he needed more information that the few sentences he had been given. The only way he would be able to give that would be if he told Gilbert… everything. Gilbert already knew Matthew was a witch, and he hadn’t been upset about that, and in return Gilbert had explained he was part shapeshifter. They both knew things about the other that could get them burned to the stake, but if Gilbert told anyone what Matthew were to tell him now…

Torture by King Alexander, or worse. Torture by the creature’s rumor claimed the king was harboring to enact such gruesome things upon traitors and spies. He shivered. Death would be better. But Gilbert seemed like a decent enough man, despite his flaws in drinking and mood swings. And he didn’t seem to have any sort of loyalty to the throne of Avalon. It was foolish, but Matthew had no other choice right now. He would have to trust Gilbert if he wanted the Fae’s location.

“Fine,” he murmured. He lifted his head and looked Gilbert dead in the eye. “I will tell you why I need it.”

Within those empty eyes, something gleamed deep inside of them. Surprise, maybe. Whatever it was, it surprised Matthew, too. Gilbert looked up at the pale winter sky and exhaled softly, his breath misting in front of it. “Tell me after breakfast.”

.

Gilbert warily watched Matthew from where he sat on the floor. Matthew was resting on one of the small wooden chairs he had dragged over from the little table they ate their breakfast at. He was fiddling with that damn staff he never let go of.

He may not have asked Matthew why the fucking thing glowed like it had the two times he had touched it, but that didn’t mean he stopped thinking about it. His instincts were telling him something about it was off but that didn’t necessarily mean it was bad. In fact, there wasn’t any sort of wrongness coming from it. It gave off a rather natural and warm scent. That was why Gilbert kept his mouth shut for the time being. As long as it wasn’t some demonic weapon, he didn’t really care all that much.

The sun danced further across the floor of his small home, showing it was close to noon. At this rate, there wouldn’t be enough lumber to take to town. Oh, well. One day without going would be fine. He raised an eyebrow at Matthew, watching carefully as the boy adjusted himself on the chair. His scent was filled with nerves and anxiety, but Gilbert could easily see it wasn’t disingenuous. Matthew, for all his naivety, seemed to have a good heart. He probably really saw himself as the savior of Esmya. It didn’t matter. The information Gilbert had was too precious to tell anyone without some kind of specific reason. A soft laugh resonated within his heart, sounding just like the one he used to hear every day, coming from the kitchen or the backyard or the bedroom. There was always laughter, there was always a smile. And then that laugh became distorted with a scream. He reached for his flask and let the liquid burn away sound, until there was nothing left.

“Okay, so.” Gilbert leaned his head against the wall and bent one knee to rest his arm against it. “Tell me what you know. Why do you need to find the Fae?”

He watched with a predator’s gaze as Matthew looked at his staff. Was he collecting his thoughts? Was he going to lie? Matthew knew to be careful. He knew better than to lie to Gilbert if he recalled their first meeting.

“Have you…” Matthew seemed incredibly awkward now. In his dark brown tunic and creamy tights, he looked like a boy just over the poverty line. Gilbert made the mistake of judging him by his clothes, but it was clear one should judge him by his eyes. His eyes held wisdom. It didn’t make any sense, how one so young and naïve could also be filled with such wisdom. “Have you heard the legend of King Arthur?”

Perhaps he had judged him correctly. “About the legendary king that pulled the sword from the stone? Everyone knows that stupid fairy tale. It’s the foundation of Avalon.”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was real?”

Gilbert paused. Matthew was staring at him intently, that awkwardness gone from his face, and wisdom brightening his eyes. He was being serious. Gilbert snorted and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I would. That’s just a story told to Avalonian children when they can’t go to sleep. There’s no such thing as a king named Arthur, or an old wizard, or Knights of the Round Table. It’s all made-up garbage.”

“Okay, maybe there is no king named Arthur, or an old wizard, but there is a sword named Excalibur, and there is a Once and Future King of Avalon that will strike down the current king and take his place.”

The current king… Gilbert resisted the urge to snarl at the very thought of him. The familiar rage throbbed within him like an old wound, aching and dull. The bastard that took everything from him, one right after another. He refused to show this old anger to Matthew right now. “I’m not going to say Avalon’s current king is a good one; in fact, I think some new king should toss him on his ass, but that doesn’t mean anyone can, especially not some made-up one.”

Matthew ran a hand through his curly hair, pulling at his lower lip with his teeth. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. That is why I need to find those Fae. They have something that will tell me where I can find the rightful king.”

This is where the doubts within Gilbert grew, just like they had two weeks ago when Matthew first spoke of something like this. “They don’t have anything like that.” If they had something that spoke of something like this, he would have heard about it. He would have been told.

“They do.” Matthew said with such conviction that, for a moment, Gilbert doubted himself. “I have seen it.”

And now Gilbert had to contemplate Matthew’s sanity. He leaned closer, his eyes narrowed into slits. “If you’ve _seen it_ then why the hell are you bothering me?”

Matthew leaned back, the hand holding his staff turning snow white, showing he gripped it with force. He looked at the ground, at the wall, at everywhere but Gilbert. More anger and curiosity bubbled within his chest. Patience was not his forte. “Just tell me, kid! Come on, spit it out!”

Matthew glared his way. It was clear he had guts, even someone had to push him in order for him to show them. Instead of immediately answering, Matthew continued to take his time. Gilbert groaned. This was ridiculous! What could be so important that it took this long for the damn brat to open up?

“I’m a prophet.” Gilbert stilled. “Or you could say I have the Sight, or that I am a seer. Whatever you wish to call it, that is what I am. I have not deceived you, I’m a witch, too. I was raised by a coven after I was abandoned by my birth parents, and was raised in the way of a witch. But my true ability is being able to see into the future and into the past. That is how I know about the rightful king, and how I know the Fae in Avalon are hiding something very important. I have seen both in my visions. I must find the rightful king and build his court, and the first step is finding out where this king is hiding.”

When Matthew stopped speaking, he stared directly into Gilbert’s eyes. He seemed to lose confidence and lowered his chin, staring at his hands instead. A whiff of fear traveled into Gilbert’s nose. He sniffed harder. Creatures have scents. Shapeshifters have a very distinct mossy scent, Fae smell like pine and snow, and humans smell like rain. All he could detect from Matthew was the musty scent of rain, nothing different from a normal human. Maybe prophets didn’t have a different scent, that way nothing could discern then from a normal, everyday mortal. That, or Matthew was lying.

_‘What idiot would lie about being a prophet? It’s no secret Avalon wants them all dead or made into the king’s personal lackeys.’_ Gilbert silently cursed the rational part of his brain.

He decided to play along, if only to humor himself. “You’re putting a lot on the line by telling me.”

“I’m putting everything on the line, Gilbert.”

Gilbert looked into Matthew’s eyes, and Matthew looked back. Red and lavender, unwavering, as they waited to see who would crack first. Gilbert narrowed his eyes and Matthew raised his eyebrows. It didn’t look like either one was going to lose this little game by speaking first.

Without taking his eyes away, Gilbert spoke. “You want me to believe there is a king just laying around, waiting to be found by some old wizard and taken to a sword in the stone. And then you’re gonna find this court, the head of which is the noble heartthrob Lancelot that sleeps with Queen Guinevere? And what about the romantic Sir Tristran who fell in love with the queen he was supposed to fetch for some king? Yeah, nice court you’re making. Real loyal guys.”

Oh, the glare Matthew hurtled his way could have sent lesser alphas running for the hills. If this man was an omega, he would surely be sought after constantly, Gilbert could see it now. “Like I said, I don’t think those legends are completely true. If they were, I would be an old man with enough power to move the cosmos, and I’m not.”

A snort came from Gilbert. “You’re telling me you’re Merlin? The old guy that’s depicted with a long white beard and gnarly fingers.” He wiggled his own fingers as he said it. “Wait, wait! Let me guess. You’re visions told you that too."

Matthew frowned. “Well, yes.”

Gilbert couldn’t help it, he burst into laughter. He gripped his stomach as he lowered his head, shaking it a bit in disbelief. “G-gods, kid. I have to admit, you’ve got a vivid imagination! You’re telling me that there are people out there- real people- like Arthur, Merlin, and Lancelot? And the Fae in Avalon, who have enough to hide just by hiding themselves, are holding on to some thing that will tell you where these figures are? Oh, gods this is too good.”

A blush made its way onto Matthew’s face, and through the tears of laughter in Gilbert’s eyes, he looked kind of cute like that. “I’m telling you, it’s the truth! I have no reason to make up such a grand story in my head.”

“No,” Gilbert spluttered. “Only if you wanted to make someone laugh, and believe me, you have.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes further, his blush growing until it fled down his neck. Oh, Matthew must understand how ridiculous he sounded, claiming that he himself was Merlin, and that other characters from these famous myths were out there. Please, it was nothing more than a children’s fantasy going way too far.

Suddenly, Matthew stood up with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. The kid really was pissed after all. “Fine, laugh in my face for all I care. You won’t find it funny when I prove to you what I really am, even though I find that to be quite ridiculous.”

Gilbert recovered from his laughter as he watched Matthew limp toward the front door, his staff clicking against the floor every step of the way. In the depths of Gilbert’s heart, some part of him panicked at the thought of Matthew leaving. They weren’t close at all, they weren’t even friends, but Gilbert enjoyed the boy’s company. He didn’t want him to leave. Then the words settled in his mind and made him realize he wasn’t going anywhere. “Awh, come on. Don’t be like that, kid.”

“What else can I do?” Matthew snapped, tossing Gilbert one final glare before swinging the door open. “And stop calling me kid! There’s no way you’re much older than me.”

“Sure,” Gilbert muttered with a smirk, but Matthew ignored him and slammed the door shut.

Gilbert sighed, and fell to the side so he was resting against the floor. If Matthew was this adamant about proving himself to Gilbert perhaps he really was a prophet. And what if he was? Maybe he would just have to hand over the information of the Fae to Matthew. And if Matthew turned out to truly have evil intentions and harm the Fae, those creatures he had befriended… It would be the final nail in Gilbert’s coffin.

In his mind, he saw a smiling face and auburn hair, amber eyes and pointed ears. A bright smile lit up his entire face, shining through whatever darkness had been surrounding Gilbert. He reached for him, for the Fae he considered to be his little brother, but he vanished before Gilbert could get to him.

He rolled over and reached for his flask with hands that were now shaking a little too much. This one, he could grab. This was something physical, something he could hold on to. The liquor inside splashed around as he placed the flask to his lips, his fingers shaking faster and faster. Gods damnit, he needed to get drunk or calm down-

He froze when a particular smell hit him. Smoke. Something was burning. He put the flask down and placed that hand on the floor, pushing himself up. His head spun as he climbed to his feet, and his stomach rolled. Smoke… smoke. _Every time you smell smoke, someone’s out to get you._

They burned his father at the stake decades ago, and then nine years ago, the fire and smoke choked him as his brother was taken away from him. Gilbert’s hands shook more as he fiddled with the door, trying his best to open it. When he finally got it open, he stumbled out into the cold winter afternoon. He looked around, and up at the sky. No smoke, nothing the eye could see. But it was there, on the wind, coming from down south. Someone was burning something big. A knot tightened in his stomach, his beastly instincts telling him to run, but the human part of him told him his fear was irrational. He was letting the past get to him. Gilbert stepped back inside and shut the door, letting out a long sigh.

It was nothing. The wind just picked up a scent from the town. There was no big fire, he was safe. Why was he even worried? There was no one else he loved left to burn anyway.

.

“Okay, I think we’re almost ready.”

Matthew rested his hands against the ground in the center of Gilbert’s old shop, dirt coating his hands and frustration coating his heart. In front of him lay the iron cross he picked up from the messy desk. Around Matthew and the cross was a circle sketched out of the dirt, with drops of his blood inside of the etched out circle. At the very top and bottom of the circle were three lines, made to look like the sun’s rays. He had cut a small wound on his finger and dragged it through the three lines on both sides. Some spells required blood, especially spells that aided his visions.

They exhausted him, but he was out of ideas on how to get Gilbert to believe he was a prophet. If he told Gilbert some part about the bastard's past, the stubborn alpha would have to believe him. How else would Matthew know if he hadn’t looked into the past using the powers of his Sight?

Matthew placed the sprig of rosemary- for remembrance- he had spent the last five hours searching for on this mountain right above the iron cross. It was obvious the mountainous terrain did not take too kindly to herbs that liked growing in valleys, but he had found it on the other side of the mountain, and took bushel after bushel of it in case the spell did not go as planned the first time around. And finally, Matthew traced the symbol of the triple moon on the left and right sides of the circle.

“Done,” he whispered to himself.

This spell would be used to look into the past of the owner of the iron cross. Looking into the past and future was something a normal witch could not do unless they used tools of divination, but because Matthew was a prophet, he could do it. It just took a lot out of him. It would all be worth it, though. It had to be.

He glanced at the open door, where the light of the half moon was spilling in. Because there were no windows, he kept the door open to allow some light. It was better to allow only natural lighting during spell-work instead of manmade lighting like fire. It was for the best, even if the shadows that spilled inside were rather creepy. Matthew ignored that silly fear. There was no doubt in his mind that his loyal familiar was standing guard outside. He had nothing to worry about.

Awkwardly, Matthew rested on his right hip so his twisted leg could stretch out beside him. He was careful not to destroy his circle on accident, and once he was situated, he picked up the small knife he used for his spell-work and sliced the palm of his hand.

“Oh, great goddess of the sun. You see everything from dawn to dusk; you have seen the beginning and you will see the end. Show me what you have seen of the owner of this pendant. Show me who they were, show me their kin, and show me their life through their eyes as they held this pendant.

Oh, great god of the moon. You see everything through the eyes of the moon; you have seen the secrets in the dark, and you will continue to see them until this world’s demise. Show me what you have seen of the owner of this pendant. Show me the nights they wore this pendant, show me their dreams and nightmares. Show me, my goddess of the sun and god of the moon.”

He lowered his hand, scattering drops of blood atop the iron cross and over the rosemary. It would work better if he had the blood of the owner, but he had a feeling this did not belong to Gilbert, therefore there was no way to get it. He prayed his blood was enough.

Outside, the winter wind howled, blowing the dirt on the floor around, but it did not destroy the circle or the markings around it. The sprig of rosemary lay undisturbed above the iron cross, too. It was peaceful. Matthew concentrated on the iron cross, focusing harder and harder on it. His blood gleamed in the faint lighting as it steadily traveled across the black iron. And then, the blood disappeared. Just like that, the world around Matthew followed in suit.

_Instead of crouching within a small shop with a dirt floor, Matthew was standing in a shop with a fire blazing in the corner. Weapons gleamed along the walls, ranging from swords to axes to daggers. The sound of hammering echoed throughout the enclosed space. It was so hot within the shop, Matthew could feel the sweat gleaming over his body. He could feel the sweat, but he could do nothing about it. He had no control over this body. It was a very weird sensation._

_Eyes not belonging to him stared down at a small item in large hands. It gleamed, seeming to reflect every single source of lighting that came its way. It was beautiful. Matthew felt a rush of pride, then apprehension, followed by love and then fear. This ring was important._

_“Finished with your little project?” Gilbert. That was Gilbert’s voice. And then to the right, Gilbert himself leaned against the table Matthew, or the person Matthew was housed inside, was sitting at. Gilbert looked different. He grinned so readily, and his eyes were shining with genuine happiness and pride. “Let me see!”_

_The hand enclosed around the ring, protectiveness flooding Matthew’s veins. It was strong enough to prove this person was an alpha. “It’s the first time I’ve worked with gold,” a deep voice rumbled. The free hand lifted and pulled glasses off of his face, and rested them on the table. Another moment passed, and the hand unfurled to reveal the golden ring. “But I-I think it looks okay.”_

_“Okay?” Gilbert echoed. “Okay?! Ludwig, give yourself a little more credit. It’s awesome! I would have done a much better job, but since we’re brothers and share the same blood, of course yours would look good!”_

_Ludwig. Gilbert had a brother named Ludwig._

_Ludwig made a small noise, as if he were familiar with this sort of treatment from Gilbert. He inspected the ring once more, fumbling with it in his large fingers. “I just… I need it to be perfect. He needs the best ring, and I don’t… I really don’t want to mess this up.”_

_Gilbert didn’t speak for a moment, not until he slapped a hand against Ludwig’s back. “He’s going to love it. Trust me, little brother, there is no way you could mess this up. He’s already in love with you, despite all your weird little traits! This will only make that love grow!”_

_“And you’re so certain because you’ve done this before.” Ludwig’s voice was dry, but there was a hint of fondness in it._

_“Hey, I’m smart enough to know you did the right thing by scraping the idea about a tomato ring.”_

_Embarrassment crashed into Matthew next. “If you ever bring that up to him, I will personally feed you to the pigs.”_

_Laughter exploded from Gilbert as he tossed an arm around Ludwig. “You wish, little brother. Now, stop fretting! Feli is gonna love this ring, believe me. Big brothers know this stuff.”_

_Affection and gratitude, along with a bit of exasperation, warmed its way over Matthew. It was such a foreign feeling, loving a brother like this man named Ludwig so obviously did. Respect, love, pride, annoyance, it was all there. Ludwig really loved Gilbert._

_The image changed, a bright light flashing before Matthew’s eyes. Now he was standing in a field with the sun shining down on him, watching a man swing a basket from side to side. He was beautiful, and delicate looking, with auburn hair and pale olive skin. He was dressed comfortably, in dark brown pants and a white shirt cut off at the shoulders. Matthew bit back a gasp at the emotions running through him now. Fear, love, protection, admiration, bashfulness and just a hint of confusion._

_“That’s why I need to plant more flowers in the garden,” the man, an omega by his scent, said as he gestured to his basket filled with flowers. “I think violets would be really pretty, and maybe some red daisies. What about you? What flowers would you like?” The omega tilted his head to look at Ludwig. He was Fae._

_Matthew felt himself grow shy, but something that felt like determination was inside of him too, and it pushed Ludwig to speak. “Hydrangea’s are pretty.”_

_The omega hummed. “They’re beautiful! But not many grow around here, though I wish they did.”_

_“What do they symbolize?” Matthew got the feeling Ludwig already knew that answer._

_The omega paused for a moment as he bent down to examine a cluster of wildflowers. His fingers were long and gentle as he brushed back their small petals. “Hydrangeas? They mean love, belonging, and mateship. I read they’re used a lot in mating ceremonies with the Fae. Romantic, huh?”_

_“What about lavender?” Matthew felt Ludwig stick a hand in his back pocket. “I think more of that would be nice. They symbolize devotion, right?”_

_“Mmhm!” The omega stood up, smiling brightly. “I see you’ve been listening when I talk about flower language.”_

_More embarrassment and bashfulness crept into Matthew, along with more love. So much love. Is this what it felt like to be in love with someone? To want to spend the rest of your life with them?_

_“I never thought someone could speak with flowers,” Ludwig murmured, glancing away from the omega. A name was bouncing around his head. Feliciano. The Fae’s name was Feliciano, and it was the sweetest, most beautiful word to Ludwig. “I find it fascinating.”_

_Feliciano smiled and reached up to kiss Ludwig’s cheek. It was warm and comforting. It left an ache in Ludwig’s heart, Matthew could feel it. “Thanks for listening.” He turned around and began walking away, set on finding more flowers. Matthew could feel Ludwig’s heart pounding in his chest. He was going wild with anxiety and love._

_“Wh-what about edelweiss?”_

_Feliciano paused, with his back turned to Ludwig. “You told me about that one. Let’s see… it’s a flower that grows on mountains around Norge and Raetia, right? Alpha shapeshifters climb the mountains to get the edelweiss as a sign of mateship for their omegas, right?” Matthew could see Feliciano stiffen as the words left him. Slowly, the omega turned around. “You’re certainly asking a lot of questions about…”_

_In Ludwig’s hand was a simple white flower that looked like a fallen star, the center of it filled with multiple yellow dots. The petals looked fuzzy, so different and unique compared to the billions of other flowers in the world. And resting in the center of the flower was a golden ring. Ludwig’s hand was shaking, and the nerves slamming into Matthew were enough to make even the strongest of alphas bend, but Ludwig stood against them._

_“You’re right about the edelweiss,” Ludwig murmured softly._

_Feliciano stared at the edelweiss and then up at Ludwig. He dropped his basket, and moved closer. Tears were gathering in his eyes as he took Ludwig’s wrist in both of his soft hands. “I’m dreaming.”_

_“No.” Matthew wondered if the stinging in his eyes were from Ludwig’s tears. He was filled with so much love. “This is real. I’m really asking you, Feliciano.” With his free hand, Ludwig brushed his fingers over Feliciano’s cheek. “I’m asking you, my beautiful Feliciano, to be my mate.”_

_His voice was wavering, but Matthew could hear the determination, the gentleness, and the hopefulness. He could feel Ludwig’s quickening heartbeat as Feliciano took the edelweiss and examined it. The tears spilled over from the omega’s eyes as he picked up the ring and looked at it. He looked up at Ludwig, and a cry left him as he threw himself at the alpha. “Of course I’ll be your mate!”_

_Matthew could feel how effortlessly Ludwig gripped Feliciano’s waist and lifted him into the air, spinning him around and around as their lips connected and breathless laughter echoed from both of them, as their tears mingled on their cheeks, as their lips slid together in perfect unison. When Ludwig put Feliciano down, he shakily took the golden ring made by his own hands and slid it on to Feliciano’s finger. And then he placed the edelweiss and rested it against Feliciano’s pointed ear._

_In that moment, with tears sliding down his face, with the ring Ludwig had made on his hand, and the flower he had climbed an entire mountain for in his hair, Feliciano Beilschmidt had never looked as gorgeous as did right there._

_“I love you.”_

_Light flashed again, exploding all around Matthew and sending him away from the warm field and the love he had felt so fiercely. It took him to a bed in a small room, with his head against a hard chest and a large hand clasped in his. He was no longer a shadow within Ludwig’s. He was in someone else, and he had a feeling that someone was Feliciano. He must be wearing the iron cross now. He had no way of knowing, but it felt like time had passed. How much, he could not be sure, but he was almost positive some amount of years had gone by._

_There was a faint kiss against his head, and that same love that Ludwig had pulsed through him. They loved each other just as strongly. Feliciano was filled with a fizzling sort of anxiety. He was happy, but nervous. For what? Matthew could feel the safety the omega felt in the arms of his alpha. What was there to fear?_

_“Ludwig?” Feliciano’s voice was soft in the darkness._

_“Hm?”_

_Feliciano suddenly moved. He shifted in the arms of his mate, and squirmed so he was laying directly beside him, their eyes on each other. Matthew was surprised how different Ludwig looked from his older brother. He had blond hair that hung in front of his eyes, eyes that were as blue as the sky on a winter day. His face was very handsome, one of the most masculine Matthew had ever seen. Feliciano placed a hand on his cheek._

_Matthew felt it then, something within him. It was a strange sensation. It was so faint, but it was there. “I have to tell you something,” he whispered._

_And just like that, the room lit up in a burst of light. It was coming from outside, and it was followed by a shout, demanding all shapeshifters come out at once. Dread and fear swept away all other emotions, until there was nothing left. Even as Ludwig rose out of bed and moved to the window to see what was going on, even as he could hear Gilbert thumping around the other room, so much fear was inside of him he felt sick._

_Ludwig grabbed the huge sword resting against the wall and strapped it to his back. He looked down at Feliciano and offered him his hand, and a gentle smile. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.” Feliciano believed him. Matthew felt dread rise within his own chest as he watched Feliciano take his mate’s hand._

_Moments later, Feliciano was standing outside between Ludwig and Gilbert, with a black scarf wrapped around his head. Matthew wasn’t too sure why it was there, unless… it was meant to protect his ears. He felt more fear enter Feliciano as the omega pressed himself against the hard body of his mate. All around them were people he was familiar with, shifters that lived in the same village. Matthew understood, it was a village shapeshifters lived in, but there were intruders within it._

_Alphas holding torches were in front of them, some on horses and others on foot. They were sneering at the shapeshifters. One of them caught sight of Feliciano and licked his lips. Ludwig wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer, while Gilbert growled softly. There was a rush of love for this found family, Matthew could feel it. Feliciano loved Ludwig so much, but he also loved Gilbert like an older brother._

_The alphas were dressed in complete black, and they were holding Avalon’s red banner above them, the golden lion atop it unmistakable. One of the alphas raised their voices. “You have been chosen by King Alexander himself to become a part of his ever growing army! Those who can shift into predators, step forward!”_

_Feliciano cried out softly and looked desperately up at Ludwig. Matthew could feel the dread rolling inside of him, the utter devastation. Ludwig made no move to let go just yet. A female alpha in the crowd stepped back instead, claiming this was ridiculous. What was the point? As quick as a snake, one of the Avalonian alphas clad in black was upon her, and had sliced her head right off her shoulders. And then chaos rained down._

_The torches were set on the houses in the village, and the fire easily licked its way through every single house. Feliciano had never felt such terror, as shifters everywhere were rounded up by those evil, black clad soldiers. Some tried to be defiant, but they were easily knocked to the ground and tied up. One after another, shapeshifters everywhere fell._

_Feliciano was pushed into Gilbert’s chest. “Take Feliciano and get out of here,” Ludwig ordered. “You have to go now, while there’s too many things going on. No one will notice!”_

_“No!” Feliciano cried._

_At the same time, Gilbert snarled, “Like hell we’re doing that. You’re coming with us!”_

_“It will be too noticeable if there are three of us,” Ludwig said quickly, his eyes narrowing in determination. “They will keep hunting me, which means they will keep hunting you. I can’t have that, damnit. Now go. I’ll distract them, but you two have to run.”_

_“I can’t leave you!” Feliciano exclaimed, tears pooling in his eyes as a hand drifted across his stomach. “Ludwig, I need-”_

_“Ludwig, come ON! You’re coming with us!”_

_Ludwig stared at them, and Matthew could feel the pain inside of Feliciano, the utter devastation as he tried reaching for his mate. He was going to sacrifice himself for them. He couldn’t… no. Stop. Everything was moving too quickly, everything was moving too slowly._

_“Gilbert,” Ludwig whispered, unsheathing his blade. “If these soldiers find a Fae omega here, they will not kill him. Do you understand what they would do to him?”_

_Feliciano choked back on a sob as Gilbert suddenly gripped Feliciano’s arms and pulled him back. No, stop. Let go. Let go, let go, Ludwig Ludwig Ludwig..._

_Ludwig looked from Gilbert to Feliciano. The softest smile came to his face, as the fire burned around them. He didn’t need to do this. So what if they would be hunted? Ludwig would still be with them._

_“I love you, Feliciano.” His mate’s gentle blue eyes flicked back up to Gilbert, and blazed for a moment. “Take care of him, brother.”_

_And then Ludwig turned around and threw himself into the fighting, drawing the attention of several soldiers. He shifted into his beastly form of a huge black dire wolf, and snarled, which drew even more attention. He was the ultimate predator in this village. He was making sure the soldiers gave him their undivided attention just so… so Feliciano and Gilbert could run._

_Gilbert pulled Feliciano back, further and further away. Tears were streaming down Feliciano’s face as he shook his head, as he tried to get to his mate. “NO! Ludwig! Ludwig, come back! LUDWIG!”_

_Things moved in flashes then: Gilbert dragged Feliciano away from the burning village, and they ran. They ran into the night, into the forest, into the mountains, until they were on a high enough ledge to look down at the mess before them. The village was completely devoured by the flames. Wagons were filled with shifters, adults and children, tied in chains. None of them were shifting, which meant they were infused in ash, a shapeshifter’s greatest weakness. And then Matthew saw it, a shapeshifter with blond hair falling to his knees as a soldier clad in black shoved his blade into his chest. It was enough to kill. Matthew could feel Feliciano’s entire soul shattering. He could faintly hear a whimper from Gilbert, an alpha that tried so hard to be tough. Parts of them were destroyed that night, as one watched his mate and another watched his brother fall. But through the horror, and pain, and devastation, Matthew could hear it on the wind. He could hear it when he knew Feliciano could not._

_Arthur… Guinevere… Lancelot… Elain… Galehaut… Gawain… Merlin…_

_Light exploded once more._

Matthew gasped and fell to the ground, his body limp. Pants fell from his lips as he struggled to right himself, as tremors took a hold of him. Oh, gods. Oh gods, oh dear gods. He was crying. Tears were streaming down his face, and his heart was slamming against his chest. Fear was swirling around him, it was everywhere. So was the sadness. So much sadness…

He wiped at his face as a sob wracked his body. Gilbert had a little brother, and his little brother had a Fae mate. And if that feeling inside of him had been correct, then Feliciano had been… _pregnant. He had been pregnant as he watched his mate get taken away._ They had been a family, a family that had been destroyed by Avalon’s king. And by the looks of it, there were no signs of an omega or a child living in this shack Gilbert was living in. Somehow, Gilbert and Feliciano had gotten separated. Oh gods…

Matthew felt like he was going to throw up. The spell had worked, he had seen into the past, but he was not prepared for such a tragedy. He took deep breaths through his gritted teeth, desperately trying to pull himself together. He had more than enough information to prove to Gilbert he was a prophet.

Another sob hit him as he clamored to his feet. He was exhausted, his body aching so much more than it had while he had swung that axe. The sorrow he felt was real, as if he had truly been there and had not just been looking into the past. Other feelings like the love Ludwig and Feliciano shared for each other were gone, for it did not belong to Matthew, but this raw sadness was his. It was still in his heart.

After brushing the symbols away, Matthew took his staff from where it rested against the desk and walked out of the shop. Kuma wearily watched him as he walked to the shack. Things made a lot more sense now. The emptiness in Gilbert’s eyes, his brutish nature, his stand-offish approach, and his isolation. His drinking… The man had lost everything. Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood in front of the door. He brushed the remaining tears from his face and inhaled. Some part of him wondered if this was, perhaps, too personal to expose right in front of Gilbert, but it was all he had. It would do more than prove he was a prophet. Matthew pushed the door open and walked inside. It was warm inside the shack. Gilbert was lounging on the floor with his notebook splayed open, a piece of charcoal moving back and forth on the page as he drew. What a fool. Matthew had not even known Gilbert drew pictures. For such a beastly alpha, that was a rather gentle activity.

“There you are,” Gilbert said without looking up. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

“I know how to prove I’m a prophet.”

Gilbert looked up. His eyes widened just a bit, probably at the disheveled appearance of Matthew. “Um, okay.” He closed his notebook and stood up. He shrugged a bit as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “How?”

“You had a brother.” The world around them stilled. “His name was Ludwig, and he had eyes that were sharp and cold as the winter sky. He had blond hair, too, and a deep voice that shook when he was nervous. He was shy and bashful, especially around his mate Feliciano. Feliciano was Fae, and they loved each other very much. When Ludwig asked him to be his mate, he gave him an edelweiss flower that he had obtained by climbing a mountain. There was a golden ring within it, one he made by himself. It was the first time he ever made anything out of gold.”

That was it. That was all he would say.

Gilbert was silent. His large presence that had once taken up an entire table at a tavern seemed to shrink, hiding him completely. His face was blank, nothing within it. No rage, no sadness, nothing. Matthew wondered if this were the true Gilbert, just a blank slate.

“Get out.” Gilbert’s voice was flat, devoid of everything.

Matthew flinched. “I-”

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Gilbert muttered. “I asked for you to prove yourself as a prophet, I never fucking asked for you to look into the life of my brothers. I would _never_ ask you to do that!” Now Gilbert’s voice grew angrier. He slammed a fist against the wall, so hard it shattered. “Get the hell away from me! Keep your damn business to yourself, and don’t you ever, ever, utter their names again. They were all I had. That story was not meant for the prying eyes of a stranger. Now get the hell out before I gut you and feed you to the fucking dogs!”

Matthew stared at Gilbert, at his heaving chest and wrathful eyes. He did the only thing he could, and left. He was silent as he walked over to Kuma, as his familiar lowered himself to the ground so Matthew could climb on top, and as Kuma left the shack in the mountains and headed down toward the mining village. It did not matter how long Kuma walked, it could have been fifteen minutes or an entire hour. It all felt the same. He just kept his eyes ahead of him as he let the selfishness and stupidity of his own actions fall over him.

“Oh, gods,” he whispered, placing a hand over his mouth. What had he done? The images he had probably stirred up inside Gilbert’s head, the memories that were surely replaying over and over… All because of his selfishness. He should done something else once he figured out Gilbert’s past was filled with tragedy. He should have tried something else. Instead he hurt the poor man. Gilbert may have been angry, but there had been a glistening in his eyes. Matthew felt his heart break. He had done something terrible. Kuma made a small noise, most likely sensing the distraught Matthew was under. Matthew just patted his shoulder and that was that. He did not think he could speak.

He heard a voice in the distance. He patted Kuma’s shoulder twice, signaling him to stop. Matthew narrowed his eyes, trying to listen again. It had to be nearing midnight, who could be wandering the mountains at this hour? Could it be those poachers they had faced two weeks ago? Would they actually come back?

A growl sounded from Kuma. He sensed a threat. Suddenly, the warmth in Matthew’s staff disappeared, as if it were… afraid. Matthew stared at his staff in disbelief. Ever since the vision nine years ago, the staff had been warm. The warmth never vanished, he didn’t think it could. But it was gone, and the staff was turning cold. Fast. Something very bad was coming.

And then Matthew was no longer sitting on top of Kuma’s back. Or maybe he was, but he could see so much farther now. The ground and the trees flew past him, until his vision narrowed, focusing on one thing. Faster and faster things went by, until he was looking at eleven figures stalking through the forest. They were all clad in black, with weapons at their sides. Some held torches, though from the confident strides of their feet, it did not seem like they needed them for sight. The flame caught the insignia on their chests; it was a lion. These eleven soldiers were the dressed just like the ones that had burned down Gilbert’s old village. And they were coming up the mountain toward Gilbert’s home.

Shadows completely concealed their faces, but it did not matter. The vision was over, and Matthew had Kuma charging back the way they came. “Faster, Kuma,” he breathed. “Faster, please!” Thankfully, Kuma listened. Those eleven soldiers were not that far behind him. They had to only be five minutes away, which meant if Matthew faltered, they would be upon him. Were they after Gilbert? Or were they after him? Matthew felt sick. No. That was impossible, right?

Kuma exploded through the trees and ran right for the shack. Matthew stumbled as he dismounted, and quickly made his way to the front door. “Kuma, wake Gilbird!” His familiar made a small grunt before he disappeared, tearing to the place where Gilbird slumbered. Matthew pushed the door open for the second time that night and looked around in alarm. Gilbert was no longer in the front room.

“Gilbert! Where are you?” Something close to panic started to overtake him. If he couldn’t find Gilbert, those soldiers would be upon them. They would kill them or drag them to the palace. No. No, he had to steel his nerves. He swallowed the panic and stumbled toward Gilbert’s small bedroom. “Gilbert!”

The bedroom door swung open and, thank every god, Gilbert walked out. His eyes were wide with alarm and just a bit of rage. “What the hell are you doing? I thought I told you to leave!”

Matthew flung himself at Gilbert, the hand that was not holding his staff gripped the alpha’s shirt. Gilbert placed his hands on Matthew’s shoulders, alarm clouding his gaze. “Soldiers! Soldiers dressed in black are coming! There’s eleven in total, and they’re- they’re close!”

Just like Matthew had expected, understanding shone in Gilbert’s eyes. Emotions ran through Gilbert’s eyes, and Matthew wondered if he were thinking back to the last time Gilbert had witnessed soldiers clad in black, nine years ago. He said nothing, he didn’t even move. He was like a beast frozen in terror. His grip on Matthew tightened, painful enough that it would probably leave bruises. “Gilbert!”

Gilbert snapped out of his trance. He let go of Matthew’s shoulders and took his hand instead. “Follow me!” He led Matthew out of the shack and outside, into the freezing night. The cold did nothing but heighten Matthew’s senses as they stumbled toward the place where Gilbird and Kuma were standing, Gilbird fluffing out his wings in anticipation. Gilbert let go of his hand. “Get on Gilbird, I’ll be there in a second!”

“Wait-” Matthew watched Gilbert run off to his shop, leaving him alone in the dark. Matthew looked up at the black gryphon, who lowered himself to the ground. It would hurt getting on him without Gilbert’s help, but he had no choice. He placed a quick kiss to Kuma’s head. “Run, and don’t stop until you’re out of these mountains.”

His familiar whined, before he turned around and ran away, further into the forest. Matthew looked back at Gilbird, but before he could even attempt to get on, Gilbird lifted Matthew up by the hood of his cape, and plopped him right on top of his back. Gratitude warmed Matthew’s heart and he patted the gryphon’s side. “Thank you.”

Gilbert came tearing out of the shop, right as deep voices grew louder and louder. Gilbert tossed a longbow at Matthew, who just barely caught it. Matthew saw a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder, along with a sheathed blades at his hips and the crossbow in his hand. Gilbird plucked Gilbert up and put him behind Matthew. There were no reins or saddle like last time, they were completely bareback.

“Fly, Gilbird!” Gilbert yowled.

Gilbird listened just in time, for right as he went airborne, eleven figures exploded from the trees, one immediately throwing a torch into the shack. The wood didn’t stand a chance, and it immediately burst into flames. Gilbird was high enough that the sparks didn’t graze him, but he was not taking any chances. They climbed higher and higher, away from the shouting soldiers that seemed to snarl and hiss at the treating trio.

Matthew’s heart was pounding. He could feel Gilbert’s against his back, too. That was too close. That was way too close. If he had been late, Gilbert would have been caught in that fire. He himself would have been dragged to Camelot in chains. He felt sick, and it was not from the high altitude Gilbird was reaching.

“Take us away from here, Gilbird. Go east!” Gilbert ordered in a shaking voice. The gryphon obeyed and flew away from their mountain, taking them back the way Matthew came those two weeks ago.

Matthew forced himself not too look down as he squeezed his thighs together in order not to fall. He flinched an arm wrapped around his waist. “I’ve got you,” Gilbert said beside his ear, his voice tickling him.

“I-I… I’m so sorry,” Matthew whispered.

“Why?” He could feel Gilbert shake his head. He could feel the tremor along Gilbert’s hands. He could feel the heat seeping into his skin. It was different, the way he held on to Matthew for dear life, compared to earlier when they brushed arms and Gilbert tore his arm away so violently it looked almost painful. “You did nothing.”

“They could… they could have been after me.”

The wind whistled in their ears as Gilbird continued sailing east, not stopping until his master told him to. Gilbert tightened his grip around Matthew, but it was not bruising. It was almost comforting. “Never apologize for those Avalonian dogs trying to kill you. That means you did nothing wrong. Believe me.”

There was a lump in Matthew’s throat. He needed to apologize about the other thing too, the selfish stunt he had pulled without any consideration for how Gilbert would feel about it. As soon as he opened his mouth, Gilbert breathed,

“You came back for me.”

Matthew blinked, his glasses sliding down his face. He shakily pushed them back up his nose, shivering a bit. His hair whipped around him, and his face felt like needles of ice were pushing their way through the skin, but it was okay. He was safe. “I wouldn’t let them get you.”

Gilbert’s grip tightened again, and Matthew swore he felt Gilbert’s forehead touch his shoulder, but he could have simply imagined it. They kept flying for a little longer until Gilbert shouted, “Land, Gilbird!”

Before long, Gilbird was standing in a field and Gilbert was helping Matthew down. They were both shaking from the cold, nighttime flying, but they were unharmed. They were alive.

Gilbert collapsed on the ground, his knees bending and his elbows finding a home on top of them. Matthew followed in suit, laying down beside him. In the distance, he could see the mountains they had fled from, but they were so far. There was no way they would be caught tonight or tomorrow, or even on the third day. They were safe. He looked over at Gilbert. His eyes were narrowed as he stared at the ground. He looked away to take in their surroundings. They were in a valley, with a merchant road barely visible before them. No towns, no taverns, just the wilderness, a road, and a forest beyond that.

“Gilbird,” Gilbert murmured, lifting his head. Gilbird walked over from the sound of his name. Gilbert took the gryphon’s head in his hands and gently stroked his beak. The creature made a soft ‘cooing’ noise and nuzzled his master’s chest. “Go into the mountains in Glaceria. You’ve been there before, remember? Go there, and stay there until I call for you. It’s safe there. We can’t have you flying around, especially since those bastards are going to alert the entire Avalonian army and have them watch for a black gryphon. Okay?”

Gilbird did not seem to be okay with that at all. He made a small whine of protest, but he spread his wings anyway. Matthew watched as he flew off, crying out into the night. He stared at Gilbert in shock as the alpha got to his feet. “Why… how is he going to come back?”

“With this.” Gilbert untucked something from his shirt. It was a little whistle attached to string hanging from his neck. “He can hear it from miles away. Obviously, I’ve got to be somewhat close to him, but it works really well.”

Matthew stared at Gilbert carefully. The alpha was staring off into the distance, toward the mountains, where those soldiers in black were. What was he thinking about? Why did he send Gilbird away?

“We’re going to the Orlon Forest,” Gilbert suddenly said.

“The Orlon Forest?” Matthew thought back to his map of Avalon. The forest was in the west, a small thing that was densely populated with oaks, rowans, and pines, and not much else of anything. “Why?”

“That’s where the Fae of Avalon are hiding.” Matthew’s eyes widened. Gilbert was telling him their location… “And we’re going to pay them a visit.” He looked away from the mountain and met Matthew’s gaze, with a grin on his face even as tears streamed from his eyes. “I’m tired of those fucking Avalonian’s taking everything from me. I’m going to stand against them, even if it kills me.”

Gilbert offered his hand to Matthew, as the wind rustled the long grass around them and as the stars twinkled above them. Matthew stared at that outstretched hand in a bit of disbelief. He didn’t question it. There was no time. Matthew smiled and took Gilbert’s hand right as someone with a smile in their voice whispered a name inside his head.

_Gawain._

.

The shack in front of the Wolf was burning. Any sort of evidence was gone. There was nothing for them to analyze, no way to learn about the boy, or the man he had been staying with. All of it was destroyed, because of one idiotic soldier.

The Wolf rounded on his group of ten soldiers. Elites. Yeah, right. A snarl was torn from him. “Are you idiots even thinking? We were supposed to catch them alive.”

His ten soldiers shuffled on their feet, none of them looking him in the eyes. _“Stand at attention,”_ the Wolf bit out.

At least they followed this order. He walked past them, staring at each one of them, until he made it to the soldier that threw the torch at the shack. He lunged for the alpha, a young man whose name he has forgotten. He wrapped his hand around the young man’s neck and lifted him up off of his feet, squeezing as he did so. “Be prepared to grovel at King Alexander’s feet as you explain why the hell you made such a stupid mistake.”

The man gasped and kicked his legs out as he struggled to breathe. At every little move, the Wolf tightened his grip. He gritted his teeth. He needed to kill. He wanted to see the life drain from this man, he wanted to watch his face turn blue, witness his eyes pop out of his skull, feel the blood drip down his fist, listen to his slowly fading breath-

_“I have to tell you something.”_

The voice whispered in the Wolf’s ears, soft and beautiful as it spoke in the still of the night. His eyes widened, and he dropped the man, who coughed and spluttered at his feet. The black stone around his neck tightened, but he ignored it for now. That voice needed to get out of his head.

“Check the perimeter, look for whatever clues you can find.”

A chorus of ‘yes, General’ rang throughout the forest as the nine alphas dispersed, the tenth one still collecting himself on the floor. The Wolf pivoted on one foot and began stalking down a trail, the stone collar tightening and tightening with every step. He breathed through it, even as pain as sharp as lightning crawled its way across his skin with every breath. It would fade. It always faded… The Wolf paused when a piece of white fur caught his eye. The pain fled from his, and the tightening ceased as he bent down to pick it up. He sniffed it. It was that creature that was always with the boy. It had not flown on the gryphon like the boy and his new companion had.

“Soldiers!” the Wolf shouted. “I have found our trail!”

He was going to get that boy. He was going to figure out what the hell he was doing, asking for the Fae of Avalon, and then he was going to slice him into pieces, bit by bit. In his mind, that sweet voice turned to nothing but screams, and the owner of his body turned to ash. No more distractions. He was the Wolf, the king’s fiercest warrior, and he would not be stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick notes:
> 
> -The Zweihander is a German sword that literally means 'two handler'
> 
> \- In this story, Gilbert is the inventor of the crossbow. I have a headcanon that Gil is really good at designing weapons because the Prussians basically revolutionized the use of guns in 1836 by their invention of the needle gun. Not to mention, they introduced the idea of the bayonet to the Americans during the War of Independence. Prussia was a military powerhouse with a plethora of weapons, and I just had to pay homage to that in this fic with Gil!
> 
> \- Matthew uses magic that is prominent among Wiccans, which is a nature based religion. The triple moon symbol used in this fic is the symbol of the Triple Moon Goddess in real Wiccan faith, which includes the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone
> 
> Thank you for the kudos!


	5. Merlin and Gawain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of rape used as psychological torture. Nothing happened (nothing like that will ever happen in this story), but it is briefly talked about. The "person" saying it speaks in bold words, so if you are uncomfortable with reading something like that just skip over the bold sentences.
> 
> I personally love listening to music when I'm reading, and I know a lot of other people do too! I would highly recommend listening to Rammstein's "Deutschland" while reading from the Wolf's point of view. It adds a bit more darkness to it.

Someone was poking his cheek. “Hey, kid. It’s time to wake up.”

For a moment, Matthew was tempted to swat the hand away and turn over, silently telling whoever was so rudely waking him that he was going to continue sleeping for however long he pleased. Unfortunately for him, his sleepy mind started replaying the events that occurred mere hours ago, and he knew he could rest no more. He opened his eyes, immediately becoming alert with the possibility of a threat.

“Calm down, don’t get all jumpy,” Gilbert said. “Nothing’s wrong, but we need to get going.”

Upon hearing there was no threat, he did smack Gilbert’s hand from his face. He groaned a bit as he lifted himself up into a seated position. They were not on a bed, they were in the outskirts of a forest, sitting on the ground with nothing but dried fallen leaves and their cloaks and jackets to keep them comfortable. He blearily reached for the glasses he had put next to his pack just hours before and slid them on his face. He felt so gross, like he needed a nice bath. Too bad there wasn’t any running water in remote forests.

“Is it even dawn?” he asked, glancing at the dark sky through the naked branches. Sure enough, there were still a couple of stars shining down in the purple sky.

“Just barely.” Gilbert stood up, brushing some leaves from him. “We should get an early start. It’s better to travel in the morning instead of late at night. That’s when all the scoundrels come out to play.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Matthew rolled his eyes.

“I do believe I’m with the worst of them.” Matthew grabbed his small satchel and tied it to his belt before he took his staff and clambered to his feet. His knee groaned in protest. The cold always made it stiffer than usual, and since he just slept outside, it was not happy with him. Once he was completely standing, he gave an experimental tug at the satchel to make sure it was secure. He had left his larger satchel in Gilbert’s shack, meaning it, along with the spare clothes, blanket, and the salve for his knee within it, had been destroyed. This smaller one, however, was much more important since it housed his book of shadows, the notebook he’s been collecting all of his spell-work and herbal remedies within since he was just a child. He hardly ever removed the small satchel from his belt. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me kid.”

Gilbert snorted as he slipped his long jacket back on. “I do believe someone as old as me is allowed to call someone as young as you a kid.”

“You can’t be that old,” Matthew scoffed as he tied the strings of his cape together and let them rest against his neck.

“No, I guess I’m not. By immortal standards, I’m still hella young. But by mortal standards, more than half of my life is over.”

Matthew stared at Gilbert in bewilderment as the alpha placed a hand to his forehead and tilted his head back in an attempt to be dramatic. He didn’t find it very amusing, choosing to walk past him instead of smiling or laughing. He tried not to flinch as he went. The spell he had done yesterday took way more out of him than he had initially realized, and now he was running on only a few hours of sleep. He would be lucky if he didn’t fall asleep while walking!

As Matthew emerged from the forest, the biting winter wind seemed to pick up. No longer were they surrounded by trees, the full force of the wind would have nothing delaying it as it blew across the plains of Avalon. He fisted a hand inside his cape to pull it closer around himself. At least he didn’t mind the cold.

“You’re not even going to guess my age?” Gilbert called from behind. From the tone of his voice, he was probably rolling his eyes. “Looks like you’re gonna be such a fun companion.”

Matthew paused so the alpha could catch up to him. He wrinkled his nose when they were standing next to each other. Gilbert smelled different now. As a beta, Matthew’s sense of smell was not that great compared to alphas, but he could catch little whiffs of powerful emotions, like the time Gilbert had slammed him against the tavern wall. The anger coming from him had been strong enough for Matthew to taste. Now, however, he just smelt like dead leaves and rowan trees. Gilbert suggested they roll around in the leaves so their scents would be disguised, “just in case those bastards kept following them.”

“Fine, I’ll take a guess.” The two trekked out of the valley of high grass and toward the merchant road, the informal title given to the long dirt road curving around Avalon. It received the name by being popular with merchants. “Forty-five.”

“Wrong!” Gilbert sounded delighted. He tilted his head to the side and grinned wolfishly, Matthew just barely catching sight of it from the corner of his eye. “I’m sixty-two!”

Wow. By immortal standards, it really wasn’t that big of a deal; by comparison, he had been taught that many Fae lived to be five hundred! But sixty-two was such a weird age. It was a regular old age by human standards, but impossibly young by immortals. Matthew wasn’t too sure how to feel about it, though he had a funny feeling it would delight Gilbert if he gave any sort of shocked reaction. Even so, it proved how little Matthew personally knew about the alpha.

“Immortality doesn’t bother me. I was raised by a coven of ancient witches, all of them over the age of six hundred. I don’t even consider sixty-two to be that old.” He could actually see Gilbert deflate. His shoulders dropped and his lips pursed as he ducked his head.

“Yeah, this trip is gonna be so _much_ fun.”

Feeling a bit guilty by crushing the man’s dreams, as silly as they might be, Matthew grappled with something to say to make him feel just a bit better. “So you’re immortal then? Even though you’re only part shapeshifter?”

The way Gilbert lit back up was comical. Matthew could count on one hand the number of children he has met, and this grown, sixty-two year old alpha acted like every single one of them. “Yep! Immortal as any other shapeshifter, it seems.”

They stepped onto the smooth road and fell into step beside one another. There was nothing but forests and valleys around them, with the mountains in the distance. The wind rustled the long stalks of grass, and made the bare branches in the forest sing ghostly hymns. Matthew watched the scenery slowly pass as they ambled down the path. He kept his eyes off of the alpha, even though he was quite enthralled with what he had to say. “I’ve never heard of someone being only “part shapeshifter”. How did that happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Honestly?” Gilbert swooped down and plucked a long stalk of grass from the ground and slid the bottom part into his mouth. His jaw worked slowly as he casually chewed it. “I don’t really know. My dad was full shifter, he could turn into a black wolf; hell, the Beilschmidt clan has been shifting into wolves for centuries! My mom was a mortal woman, but that still doesn’t explain it. A lot of times, shapeshifters will have sex with mortal omegas and impregnate them, only for them to give birth to full blooded shifters. I got some qualities, but no wolf form of my own. I’m just a weird case.”

Matthew turned his full attention to his companion. He watched Gilbert walk, lifting his feet with lupine grace that seemed almost unnatural. The alpha reached up to scratch the side of his head, his fingers moving swiftly side-to-side, like that of a dog. Then there were the fangs working their way through the blade of grass, and his hot-headed temperament hidden by pleasantries for the time being… yes, it was not hard to see Gilbert was a shapeshifter, the creatures that toed the line between man and beast. His actions, his mannerisms, they seemed to be more animal like than human. He wondered if Gilbert struggled with more carnal problems, too. His face flushed at the thought. Red eyes flashed on his, and Matthew felt his face burn even more at the question in those eyes. Oops.

“Um, so, your family’s form is the wolf?” he hurriedly asked.

Pride filled Gilbert’s face as he nodded and took ahold of the iron cross pendant at his neck. Matthew wondered if he had grabbed Ludwig’s before he left. “Dire wolves. According to my dad, Beilschmidt’s were once the protectors of certain kings since we were so powerful. And man, my father was powerful. He was _fast_, could race the wind in his dire wolf form! The stories he would tell… damn. They were legendary. Oh, and you can’t forget the notorious Beilschmidt temper. Now _that’s_ legendary.”

The way Gilbert spoke of his father, with such pride and admiration, was foreign to Matthew. His father… He took a deep breath at the thought of Alexander Jones Pendragon, the king who banned magic, trapped Fae, and hunted shapeshifters like Gilbert’s father and brother. If Gilbert figured out who Matthew’s actual father was, there was no way it would end well. The thought made him a bit queasy. The threats the alpha had given him on the night they met would certainly come true.

Matthew pushed those fears down. After they made it to the Orlon Forest, Gilbert was probably going to leave him He would never need to know. “What was your father’s name?”

“Aldrich.” Gilbert grinned and tilted his head back. “Aldrich Elias Beilschmidt.”

_Aldrich Beilschmidt_. The name sounded familiar to Matthew. Had he read about it in a book, or had his mother told him a story involving the shifter? If Gilbert’s family had been as powerful as he claimed them to be, it was probably the latter. He couldn’t remember the story now, unfortunately. “A name meaning wise ruler How… um, awesome.”

“So you didn’t see him when you went snooping in my past?”

The sudden words stung more than Matthew expecting them to. There was no time to talk about what had happened last night, and he had silently hoped Gilbert wouldn’t bring it up. It was foolish and selfish to wish for that. Gilbert deserved to know, it was _his_ family after all. Matthew concentrated on running his thumb through the grooves of his staff’s runes as he quietly replied.

“No, I did not see your father. Just your brother, his mate, and you.”

Gilbert did not speak. It was so different than his earlier, childlike excitement. Matthew did look to see his expression, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Even if Gilbert had decided to join him on this quest to see the Fae, it was clear he was doing it to help get revenge on Avalon, not to help Matthew. He was still angry, it was justified, but this small silence was suffocating.

“I’m sor-”

“How did you see them?”

It was unclear whether Gilbert didn’t want pity or he didn’t want an apology for the means Matthew had taken. He wasn’t going to ask either way. “I used a remembrance spell that allowed me to see through the eyes of the person wearing the iron cross that was in the shed. I was able to see two events through the eyes of your brother, and a third through the eyes of his mate.” Matthew wasn’t sure what else to say. “It… only worked as well as it did because I’m a seer.”

“Because you’re a seer.” There was a soft clucking noise, like Gilbert clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He let out a long sigh, right as the sun’s rays bled across the lightening sky. “I guess I’ve gotta believe you now.”

Matthew held his breath. The alpha must still be furious, there was no way he couldn’t be. He gave an experimental sniff of the air, but could detect nothing save for the stench of dried leaves. “I… I should have gone about proving it another way. It was wrong of me to snoop like I did.”

He spared a glance at Gilbert and found the man staring at the ground as his hand fumbled with something in his pocket. The other iron cross, if Matthew had to guess. “My little brother is dead,” Gilbert mumbled. And just like that, the emotion was gone from his voice. “Maybe I should thank the gods he is, that he wasn’t forced to become one of those shapeshifting super soldiers the bastard king wants so badly, but I’m a _selfish prick._” The hand in his pocket clenched at the same time his jaw did. “He was the best of us all, him and his mate. That’s why I’m helping you, even if I’m still not entirely clear on everything you say you need to do. I’m taking you as far as the Orlon Forest for them. That’s where my charity ends.”

Matthew's hunch had been correct. As far as Orlon, and that’s where they would part ways. It was only fair. Besides, that’s all Matthew really needed him for anyway. His throat felt dry when he remembered the whisper he heard in the night. _Gawain_. Gilbert was Gawain. Could he really let such an important member of King Arthur’s court just walk away? He would think about that when the time came. For now he thought about something that has been bothering him.

In the pieces Matthew had seen, Ludwig’s mate had been alive. There were no images of his death, but there weren’t any images of his departure from Gilbert either. Matthew couldn’t see them separating, not when it was so clear they loved each other like brothers. He wanted to know what happened, but that was too personal. He already overstepped his boundaries, he refused to do it again.

Gilbert sighed again, though it sounded more like a growl. His hand slipped from its pocket and hung at his side, the fingers shaking unnaturally. They were the first tremors to be seen all morning. “You didn’t need to hear any of that, my bad.” In a lowered voice, he growled something that sounded suspiciously like, “This damn headache won’t go away.”

Matthew looked at Gilbert, really looked. The half shapeshifter with a drinking problem, a weird attitude, and a possibly genius mind who invented an entirely new weapon, who valued his lost family, and seemed to be in the dark when it came to himself. The man who was Gawain, arguably the most chivalrous of knights seated at King Arthur’s table.

“I don’t think you’re selfish at all,” Matthew murmured. “I find you to be completely selfless.”

.

It was raining by the time Gilbert and Matthew found the first tavern on the road. It was tucked away in the forest, with a wooden sign staked beside an off-road path. It was the second day of their travels, and it was almost over when this accursed Avalonian weather decided to erupt. The winter rain chilled Gilbert to the bone as they pulled off the main road to the one that curved into the forest.

“Gods, I’m colder than a witch’s tit,” he grumbled. “Oh, no offense.”

There was a pause before Matthew caught on and made a small noise of shock. His already red cheeks darkened, and he tightened his dark gray cloak around himself. “This inn should be warm.”

Bastard. Wasn’t even going to comment on such a clever joke. Gilbert brushed his wet bangs from his forehead, and narrowed his eyes through the rain. “Who cares if it’s warm? As long as they’ve got a roof and a room, I’m good.”

When it came into view, the posts meant for horses were empty. That was a good sign. Matthew sighed softly in relief and quickened his limped pace, but Gilbert grabbed his arm to keep him from getting closer. The beta turned on him, a question probably forming on his lips.

“The walk to the Orlon Forest is going to take two weeks, and we can’t go that long without a blanket for the night. If we’re able to get a room, we need to take one from there.”

Matthew blinked. “We can’t just walk out with one of their blankets.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit. I have a plan.” A plan Matthew would surely hate, but they were going to freeze to death as the nights grew colder. By the time they made it to the Fae, the first snows of the season should have already fallen. They needed _something_ to warm them. The prey they had caught with Gilbert’s longbow had been minimal, only a rabbit and squirrel, and the fur was not thick enough to sew into boots or jackets. It didn’t matter anyway, neither one of them had a needle. “We have to get off this path first.”

Matthew’s lavender eyes held a bit of suspicion, but he relented without protest and let Gilbert lead him off of the path and into the forest. Gilbert noticed his limp was worse. He had nearly slipped earlier, even though the path they were on was packed with enough gravel and dirt that it didn’t turn muddy. He wondered if the rain and cold made it worse. He still hadn’t asked about that knee, even though he was curious. Matthew walked well enough to tell him it was nothing new, but there was still an obvious limp to show it was bad, whatever the wound was. He would ask before they made it to the Orlon Forest, Gilbert decided.

“Okay.” They stopped behind a large tree, the tavern still visible if they poked their heads around. Gilbert took no time shedding his dripping wet jacket and balling it up. He handed it to Matthew, sucking in air to keep himself from laughing. “Stuff this under your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re gonna pretend you’re a pregnant omega!” Gilbert pushed the article of clothing closer to the beta who made no move to grab it. “Your face is pretty enough that no one will question it. And your scent will be completely concealed by the rain and my jacket!"

When Matthew opened and closed his mouth, Gilbert forced himself not to snicker. The beta didn’t seem to know how to react. “Wh-why are we doing this? It won’t get us a free room.”

“’Course not, but how else are we going to get away with taking a blanket?” Matthew stilled, and Gilbert grinned. “Yeah, see? If we walk out and pretend you’re pregnant _then_, people will wonder why you weren’t that round coming in.”

He thought it one of his better plans.

“There has to be another way.” Matthew obviously thought differently.

“Oh, yeah?” Gilbert asked, quirking an eyebrow. “Do tell. In the legends, Merlin was said to think quickly on his feet, right? Let me hear a riveting plan from Merlin himself!”

Matthew’s glare was becoming as dark as the sky. “Oh, it won’t matter what I say. It’s pretty clear you’ve had this idea in your head for a while.”

Gilbert resisted the urge to giggle, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. “Does that really matter? I’ll answer for you; no, it does not. Now come on! Get pregnant!”

The whack that was delivered to Gilbert’s arm was probably justified, but it didn’t stop him from pouting as he rubbed it. “You’re mean.”

Matthew snatched the jacket from his hand and replaced it with the very staff that had harmed him. “I do believe you’re only two personality traits are angry and dickish.” He said nothing more as he raised his shirt and stuffed Gilbert’s jacket under it. As he smoothed his shirt back down, it was clear he wasn’t really pregnant, not until Gilbert stepped forward and pulled Matthew’s cape closed. Matthew took his staff back and put a hand over his fake bump. “No one will believe this.”

“Yes, they will. Can you lighten up for once?” He started out of the forest to the path. “It’s just for a few minutes, you’ll live.”

He stopped when he didn’t hear his companion’s footsteps behind him. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, biting down to snap for Matthew to hurry up. “Come on, I’m freezing my ass off out here!”

Matthew shifted a bit, his eyes straying to the ground. The hood of his cape was so wet, the rain had probably seeped into his hair. His white teeth flashed as they began gnawing on his bottom lip. “We should walk in together, to make it more convincing.” He finally looked up. That blush was there again, still visible even in the dark evening. “I-if I have to pretend to be pregnant-” He actually whispered the word. “-we have to pretend to be mates. It would look weird if we didn’t...” He shrugged helplessly. “I should take your arm.”

His arm? Unease wormed itself through Gilbert’s gut at the idea of Matthew holding on to him. He was not used to people touching him. In fact, he had not been touched by anyone in nine years. He didn’t care, he told himself all the time he didn’t need someone to touch him to make him feel, well… whatever warm, close feeling people had.

“Yeah, obviously!” Gilbert exclaimed, inwardly cringing by the volume of his voice. He stomped back over to Matthew and held out his arm, shoving his other hand in his pocket to hide the little tremors. “I knew that, I was just waiting for us to get back on the path before I brought it up! And don’t look all flustered! It’s just an arm.”

Matthew blinked at him as his scent spiked with puzzlement. “Why would I be flustered over that?” He slipped his arm through Gilbert’s with a sigh. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

Sparks prickled along Gilbert’s arm, underneath his drenched sleeve. It was like little thorns digging into his skin, and he had a great urge to shrink away from Matthew and take his arm back. His heart was fluttering against his chest like a little bird, frightful and timid. He didn’t understand how someone like Matthew, a man who clearly was not comfortable talking to people, so easily moved them back onto the inn’s path without flinching and adjusting. He didn’t seem to care. Why the hell did Gilbert?

He forced himself to take a deep breath, hidden by the pouring rain falling around them. As his breath dispersed around him, he focused on other things aside from their linked arms, like the droplets of water clinging to the roof of the inn, the pounding of the rain as it hit the forest floor, and the physical feeling of Matthew’s arm. It was harder than Gilbert expected it to me. There was clear muscle around his biceps, even his forearm was tense. Since the beta always walks around quietly, like he’s trying to hide himself in his own skin, Gilbert always got the sense he was just tall and skinny. Clearly, that was not the case. He glanced at Matthew’s face. Where Gilbert’s own face was starting to get rough with unshaven scruff, Matthew’s was perfectly clean. His jaw was sharp, but the slope of his nose was soft. His lips were chapped by the cold, but they were plump. His glasses were round and almost too big for his face, but they suited him. His face had a very gentle glow to it, like an omega’s, but his body was shaped like an alpha’s and omega’s, from his broad shoulders to his pinched waist. Is that what all betas were, the combination of an alpha and omega? Gilbert did not know, he only grew up around alphas and omegas since shapeshifters were always one or the other, never a beta. Betas were like a forbidden fruit to him, he supposed.

_‘No. Why the hell would you think that? It sounds creepy, keep that shit out of your head.’_ Damn, he really needed a beer; _that_ would get him to stop thinking so strangely.

When they made it to the entrance, Matthew slid his arm out of Gilbert’s and waited for him to open the door. It took a brief moment, since Gilbert had been quite surprised to find he missed the warm hold belonging to the other. They stepped into the inn, Matthew’s hand immediately going to his rounded stomach. Gilbert had to bite back his grin.

“Hopefully there’s a room,” Gilbert said, loud enough for an eavesdropper to hear them. He reached over to pull Matthew’s hood down since his hands were occupied. “You’ve been walking so long, I know you’re tired.”

Matthew said nothing, just nodded in agreement, though his face did take on a sleepier quality to it as they made their way to the small desk at the front. An elderly omega woman- human, by the scent clinging to her- smiled at the two from behind the desk, her eyes brightening at the sight of Matthew’s stomach.

“My, what brave souls the two of you are,” the woman said. “Traveling with a babe in a rainstorm such as this!”

“Aye, miss.” Gilbert took out his coin pouch from the satchel at his hip, right beside the sheathed hunting dagger. “We are on our way to visit my mate’s sister, just two days away on foot. The physician said the exercise would be good for my mate, but then this rain started. You wouldn’t, by chance, have a room to spare for the night?”

“Of course, my dear.” The woman stared at Gilbert, her eyes running over the length of him. They paused twice, at the daggers against his hips and the longbow and crossbow strapped to his back. They ventured to Matthew next, though she would not be able to see the quiver concealed by his cape. “You look as if you’re a walking armory.”

Gilbert made sure to laugh loudly, as if the joke were too funny. “I am a huntsman, always on the look for game!” He placed a couple of silver coins on the desk, seeming to put the woman at ease.

“Ah, of course.” She took the coins with a wrinkled hand and swept them underneath the desk. She riffled around, presumably for a key. With her head down, Gilbert glanced at Matthew, who glanced back. Gilbert placed his hand on his own stomach and began rubbing it in circles, and mouthed, “Authenticity!” Matthew rolled his eyes, but started doing it to his own. The woman straightened and handed Gilbert a key.

“Here you are, sir. My, I have to say. It is so refreshing to see such a sweet pair like you.” She looked to Matthew with a wickedness in her eyes that only omegas sharing a knowing secret could have. “You have a sweet mate, my boy. I saw him staring at you with such intensity from out the window as the two of you came up.” Gilbert almost choked. _Intensity_ is not a word he would use. “What a sweetheart.”

Matthew’s eyes widened just a bit, but he covered it with an embarrassed tilt of his head. “Oh, yes. He is.” His voice was soft, almost loving. Clearly, the kid could act. Hell, Gilbert almost believed he was being serious.

“Anyway,” he started before he could get too embarrassed. “We best be going. Thank you, miss.”

“Thank _you_,” the woman said as Gilbert led Matthew away from the front room and toward the long hallway. “And please, do try to keep it down. We have a few other guests around.”

Gilbert wondered if this was some sort of payback for what he had done to Matthew.

.

By the time they were settled inside their room, Matthew was ready to collapse in a heap of exhaustion. Fortunately, their room had a fireplace. Matthew would have to thank the elderly omega for her hospitality, because there was no way every room inside the inn had a fireplace. She must have taken pity on the soaking wet, pregnant omega and his chivalrous mate. Even though guilt stabbed Matthew’s heart from their deception, he was happy to be warm and have a bed to lay on.

He curled up underneath the covers as the fire blazed at the foot of the bed. Gilbert was beside him, at the very edge of his side of the bed. Matthew hoped he was embarrassed for having to share a bed. It served him right for the humiliation he put him through!

However, it was just a tiny bit awkward. Their clothes were laying on the floor in front of the fire so they could dry, leaving them in nothing but their undergarments. If only the rain hadn’t been so vicious, then they could have found shelter inside the forest. If only it wasn’t winter. If only a lot of things were different.

Gilbert made a small noise of contentment as he flopped over on his back. Matthew glanced at him, as the sounds of the fire crackling and the rain pounding on the roof echoed throughout the small room. At the base of the bed, underneath the blankets, Gilbert’s toes wriggled. “Damn, I thought I would never get warm again.”

A hum of agreement left Matthew. The warmth wafting through this little room was heavenly. He was actually having a bit of difficulty staying awake with his exhausted mind and body, but he couldn’t just yet. Over these past two days, he had neglected telling Gilbert about the Gawain thing. He needed to. He felt like he was deceiving him the longer he kept quiet.

He waited a moment longer, just staring at the ceiling above and focusing on the soft noise surrounding them. He glanced at Gilbert a final time, noting that those red eyes were wide and darting around. It’s clear one of them wasn’t that tired at all.

“Do you remember what I told you about King Arthur?”

Gilbert’s eyes ceased their searching. He turned his head. His eyes found Matthew instead, and rested on him. The light of the fire burned deep inside of them. For some reason, it was in this moment Matthew realized he was sharing a bed with an alpha. It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did.

“You mean about that Once and Future King you’re trying to find?” Gilbert raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Do you believe me now, since you decided to join me?”

Gilbert’s empty eyes actually sparked, and for a moment there was something else within them. Not rage, not attitude, but curiosity. He turned his head away and Matthew felt like he could breathe again.

There was a heavy silence as Gilbert took his deliberate time in answering. He had laughed in Matthew’s face when he first heard about it, and that had not been too long ago. What would he say now? Would he still shrug it off? He was helping Matthew because of Ludwig and Feliciano, but could there be, even the tiniest sliver of him, that decided to help him because he believed some part of this wild story?

“I guess I believe some of it,” Gilbert sighed. “Maybe. You can’t blame me for being suspicious, this isn’t the type of thing people can just believe. I grew up being told this true king and his sword in the stone were just stories meant to unite the kingdom of Avalon during past times of disarray. To hear they’re actually _true_ is going to take some getting used to.”

Matthew looked away and over to his staff leaning against the wall by the bed. “You’re right, it sounds like complete nonsense.” Gilbert already knew more than enough. He knew there was a rightful king, he knew the Fae were hiding something important, and he knew Matthew was on some type of quest. It did not matter if he believed him or not, King Alexander Jones Pendragon would find it all to be fascinating regardless. There could not be much harm in telling him more.

“Nine years ago, just a few days after the summer solstice, I had a very vivid vision,” Matthew started, his eyes still on the staff. “I saw an army of darkness, composed of daemons from Hell itself. In the front of this army was King Alexander, with four very ghoulish creatures directly beside him. Never in my life had I felt more helpless.” The inky blackness that seemed to swallow those little fires, the bones hitting the drums, none of it compared to the hopelessness and fear he had felt as he stared at that army. “Then there was a light behind me, and when I turned, I saw ten people standing on a hill with their own army behind them.” The hope that had bloomed inside of Matthew that day was unlike anything he had felt before. He still held on to it, and he would continue to until that darkness was vanquished from Esmya for good. “The one in the center raised a sword of fire and screamed a battle cry, before leading his army down the hill to meet Alexander’s.”

Gilbert was silent, it didn’t even sound like he was breathing. His voice was barely above a whisper. “You had a vision of war?”

“Yes,” Matthew murmured. “I did. It will be hellish, probably the worst Esmya will ever see. But I also saw hope in those ten people standing away from the rest. Six of them even had names.”

He could feel those red eyes resting on him, but he couldn’t look at them just yet. He was still staring at his staff, the thing that glowed so fiercely that night in his visions as the male Faerie with the red cape handed it to him. He recounted each of them. “Three men, and three women. Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot, Elain, Gawain and Galehaut. They seemed to be the most important, they were the ones standing closest to their king.”

“The one with the sword?”

Matthew nodded. “That was King Arthur, flanked by his queen and his best knight.”

Once again, there was a silence, but Matthew broke it before Gilbert could ask any sort of question. “I was told by someone that night, in my vision, that I am to find the true king and build his court, that I will lead them to Excalibur. When they took my staff, it glowed for the first time, and when I woke up and touched it, it glowed again.” Finally, Matthew looked away from the staff and over to Gilbert. “It did not glow again until you touched it.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened, betraying whatever indifference he had for the story. It was clear he was interested. Matthew stared at him, and was reminded of the man he saw in his vision. The man with scruffy silver hair pulled back into a ponytail, with eyes as red as an angry sky. He held a bow as he followed after the others with a gleeful grin on his face, perhaps showing he looked danger in the eye and smiled. Chivalrous and brave, he was the most trusted friend of Sir Lancelot, and the rightful heir to Camelot’s throne directly under his uncle, King Arthur.

In the stories, his name was Gawain. In reality, his name was Gilbert.

“I think I’ve figured out why it did that.” The rain grew louder, and Matthew’s voice grew softer. “After Gilbird flew off and I took your hand, the voice that spoke to me in my vision nine years ago said the name Gawain, right in my ear. I believe that you, Gilbert, are Sir Gawain; you are meant to be a part of King Arthur’s court.”

His own words shook him. Though they were laying in a bed with nothing but their undergarments, something almost magical seemed to float through the air. The two stared at each other without speaking for a good few minutes. What was there to say? So much and nothing at all. Gilbert opened his mouth, the glow of the fire reflecting against his sharp white fangs, but not a single sound came out. He shook his head, but it was too soft to be out of anger.

“You think I am Gawain?” he breathed. “Did you… Was I in your vision? Did you see _me_?”

Matthew spoke carefully. “No, not in that one. But that was an inaccurate interpretation of those characters, perhaps an artist’s perspective. Merlin appeared within it too, but he did not look like me at all.” He paused. “The man called Gawain in that vision had your eyes, and Merlin had mine. Those were the only similarities.”

There was a silence that stretched on. It was the kind of quietness that was almost eerie, even though the fire crackled and the rain pounded.

“What kind of man was Gawain?” Gilbert asked softly. “In the legends.”

Matthew thought back to the books he read, the legends and myths and stories that all centered around King Arthur and his knights. Over time there grew to be many different retellings, but they all had the same central premise and characters. “Gawain was the nephew of Arthur, and he turned to be one of the most loyal knights of Camelot. He was very smart and noble, the best only under Lancelot, and he was very close with both Arthur and Lancelot. He was the very definition of chivalry.”

Gilbert’s laugh was dry. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Though Matthew wanted to disagree to some extent, he went down a different path. “I don’t think everything about these legends are going to be accurate. Some of them probably are just stories. Take Galehaut and Elain for example. In my vision, Galehaut was a woman when the books claim Galehaut to be a man, one of the largest and most terrifying men to ever have walked. I do believe his mother was a giantess, actually… But in my vision, there was a skinny woman named after him instead. There are a couple of characters named Elain in the myths, one of them even mothered Lancelot’s son Galahad, but none of them were Fae. None of them were really important either, but this one stood at Lancelot’s right. This does not mean you are the nephew of the real King Arthur, or that you will be best friends with him or Lancelot. It does mean that you are very important, and that you are a member of Camelot’s new court.”

The air was taken from Matthew when he finished, and he coughed to clear his throat. His knowledge on these Arthurian myths was infinite, thanks to the days, months, and years he had dedicated to studying them. He shouldn’t throw everything out, though. Gilbert might not even be listening.

“I see.” Or perhaps he was. He looked away and back toward the ceiling. His arms came from beneath the blankets and folded behind his head. They were lean, with a bit of noticeable muscle rippling beneath pale white skin as he shifted. “How the hell did someone come up with all of this shit in the first place? Aren’t these stories super old?”

Well. At least he wasn’t laughing in Matthew’s face. “They were around before Avalon even existed. Like you’ve said before, they were the very foundation of the kingdom, but… but I have suspicions that the creator of them was actually a prophet himself, that he was given glimpses of the future, of characters. Maybe he even heard names being given to him. It can’t be a coincidence that we’re Merlin and Gawain, and our real names start with an ‘M’ and a ‘G’. Perhaps he could only hear the beginning of our names so he went from there.” He shrugged. “I could find nothing on the creator of these myths, though, so I don’t know for sure.”

“Wow.” Gilbert laughed again, the sound a low and rumbling growl. “Wow.” He placed a hand over his face and groaned. “I can’t believe I’m actually starting to believe this shit.”

That was a surprise. Matthew smiled softly and shook his head. “I’m not expecting you to believe it, not yet at least. It’s a lot to take in.”

Gilbert made an incoherent noise from behind his hand. Outside, the rain sounded like it was lightening up, thankfully, but there was still the occasional splash against the roof. Matthew must thank the gods tomorrow, for it seemed like they created a heavier rain for him to tell his story so no one could hear them.

“Yeah, it is.” Gilbert’s hand smacked against the bed and a great yawn overtook him. “I’ll sleep on it. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a vision of my very own.”

Matthew’s smile turned a bit brighter as he rolled his eyes. Gilbert wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t stomping out in a fury. He was staying right where he was. “I doubt it.” He was a bit surprised Gilbert wasn’t shaking like he did, something Matthew was still a bit unclear about. The tremors that ran through the alpha’s body were noticeable, even when Gilbert clearly hid them. He just did not understand them. “You’ve taken this surprisingly well.”

“Maybe it’ll all hit me tomorrow.” The alpha rolled over with his back to Matthew, and he assumed that was that, until Gilbert spoke once more. “Were there any stories about Merlin and Gawain sharing a bed?”

Matthew reached over and slapped Gilbert’s arm, ignoring the giggles beside him. Chivalrous, indeed.

.

“So I stand like this? And I cock my arm back like… this?”

“Yep, looking good. Are you gonna try it for real now?”

“I’m getting there. Be patient."

The sun was going doing as Gilbert and Matthew stood before a huge tree in the middle of a forest, with a circle sketched on its bark curtesy of Gilbert’s hunting dagger. They were just one week away from Orlon Forest, their journey halfway over. Gilbert was currently teaching Matthew how to fire from his longbow, and their target of choice had been a tree. It wasn’t like there was anything else to fire at.

Their stomachs were full from a small meal Gilbert had caught earlier, despite the shakiness of his hands nearly getting the better of him numerous times. He blamed it on the lack of alcohol in his system; he hasn’t had any in an entire week, a new record. But they were fed, and as warm as they could be. A simple sniff of the air told Gilbert snow was coming, probably in a day or twos’ time. The first snows were always the worst, so he wanted them to get somewhere with a roof, but he wasn’t too sure what they would find out here.

The merchant’s road ended a few hours back, and they were forced to embark blindly the rest of the way to the Orlon Forest. Gilbert _did_ know the way, he knew how to get just about anywhere in Avalon from studying maps for hours on end in the past, but he’s never been there before. He also knew there was hardly anything but trees and game around here, and that their chances for finding a barn or inn were close to none.

“Okay, you’ve got your shot lined up. Now…” He paused to study Matthew’s form. It was a bit awkward since that knee of his threw him slightly off balance, but his torso was straight, his arms were flexed and pulling back the string and arrow perfectly. His eyes were narrowed and on the target, too. “Fire!”

Matthew let the arrow fly, and it soared through the air and slapped against the bullseye. Gilbert whistled. “When were you going to tell me you could shoot?”

The bow was lowered, and a sheepish glance was passed his way. “I’ve used a short bow before, never a longbow like this; my mother taught me how. I’m just now very good with one unless I’m standing still. Very still, meaning hunting isn’t something I can do that well, obviously. Kuma helps out a lot when it’s just the two of us.”

Beside them, curled around one of the trees beside their target, Kumajirou grunted as if he agreed with that statement. The dire bear finally caught up to them just a few hours ago, and the reunion between he and Matthew had been sweet. Gilbert was glad they now had a ferocious predator on their side in case they needed it.

Gilbert walked over to pick the arrow off the ground. He had replaced the iron tip with a sharpened stone before they started so they wouldn’t ruin an actual good arrow. “I bet you could with some practice. It’s dangerous for you to be out on some quest without knowing how to fight.”

“I never needed to fight before.” Matthew sat the longbow against a tree with the rest of their supplies. The fire across from it had simmered down, nothing but a smoking trail left in its wake. “I don’t think I would be very good at it anyway. Look at me, I can hardly run.”

“Before. You’ve never needed to fight _before_.” He slipped the arrow back in its quiver. When he straightened, he shot Matthew a small glare. “Try telling those black-clad bastards you can’t fight. I bet they’ll be real understanding.”

Matthew was silent, for once not throwing some smartass comment back. Gilbert assumed he was still guilty about the whole “snooping into his past” thing. He must have seen what those fucking disgraceful monsters did to his little brother. He slapped a hand against Matthew’s back before sliding down to sit against one of the trees. Above them, a hawk peered down, its narrowed eyes staring unblinkingly at the ground. He didn’t pay it much mind, there was probably a little squirrel or something hiding around in the brush.

After a moment, Matthew moved down beside him, awkwardly extending his left leg. His deft fingers began massaging it, the rest of him wincing every now and then. Gilbert let his curiosity get the better of him. “What happened to it?”

“Oh.” Matthew’s voice was quieter than its usual soft pitch, truly a huge feat. His fingers paused their massaging for a moment before resuming without as much fervor as before. “I was born like this. My mother found healers that could fix it, but if they messed up I would never be able to walk again, period. It was not a risk I could afford taking.”

“Depressing,” he mumbled. Matthew’s scent soured with embarrassment, leaving Gilbert rather guilty. “No, it sucks. More than sucks. Gods, I’m not very good at this.”

The scent of maples tickled his nose, the scent he figured out was Matthew’s happiness. “I know you’re not.” He leant over and untucked the bottom of his pants from the inside of his boots. He pushed it up until it was resting above his knee. Gilbert’s jaw dropped at the wound staring back at him. The skin around it was purple, glaring and ugly compared to the creamy white around it. The actual bone was twisted, turned at an unnatural angle. No wonder he limped so badly. This thing looked painful. “It’s been like this for my whole life, I’ve gotten used to the weird looks and comments.”

Gilbert closed his mouth as he tried, and failed, to look away. “Does it hurt? Like, all the time?”

“Not all the time. It feels okay when I sit down, it mainly hurts after walking long distances.” Those fingers unfurled the pants, pushing it back down to his boots.

A small whoosh of air left Gilbert. “This quest must be killing you.”

The same type of airy laugh came from Matthew as he patted the satchel at his hip. “Just a bit.”

The hawk in the tree fluttered its wings as it hopped down from a branch and settled on another, letting out an ear-splitting cry afterward. Gilbert tilted his head back to watch the brown-and-white bird. Casually, he said, “Must be some important quest.”

Matthew chuckled, though there was a bit of exasperation there. “Haven’t we been over this? You know what I’m trying to do, and you know the importance of it now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gilbert had resigned himself to a couple of the things Matthew told him, but a part of him just could not make sense of it. An army of daemons? People that were supposedly like the ones from Arthurian myths? _And Gilbert was one of them?_ That was going to need a bit more persuasion before he fully believed it. “You know, you never told me what it is the Fae are hiding.”

“I have not,” he agreed. “I guess I’ve just been, I don’t know, worried about telling you? You’ve said, on more than one occasion by the way, the Fae are most certainly not hiding anything, but I have seen it in a vision.” Matthew ran a hand through his curly hair, straightening it for a moment, but as soon as those fingers left it bounced back into its curly mess. “Three months ago, I had a vision about something called the _Fabula._ Apparently, it is a book of prophecies that only seers can open, and it is currently being housed by the Fae in the Orlon Forest. I have no idea how they got their hands on such a rare artifact, but I need it. Even if only for a moment, I need to look inside of it.”

Ah. More of this. More legends, more myths, more weird shit Gilbert has never heard of before. He tried to think back, into the painful recesses of his mind, to a time when Feliciano would talk to him about his former home in the Orlon Forest. There was talk of an older brother, his older brother’s mate, and… yeah. That was about it. There was never any talk of something as mystical as this _Fabula_. “And why do you need to see it?”

Matthew looked up at Gilbert, and he suppressed a shiver. The shadows streaking through the forest fell across part of Matthew’s face, making him look rather ominous as he stared into Gilbert’s eyes. “It should tell me where to find the Once and Future King.”

Gilbert nodded slowly, wondering what to make of this. He still was not sure. “It connects you to King Arthur.”

“Yes.” Matthew looked away, the shadows disappearing from his face. “That’s why I was so adamant about getting to them. I have been searching for three months, and when I finally felt like I was getting somewhere, I got reckless and asked you too many questions too quickly. I do apologize for that, back when we first met. I was just so unbelievably excited and ready to find this king, and I had no clue you were so protective of the Fae.” Matthew stilled. “You’re protective because of your brother’s mate, aren’t you?”

The wrath that usually rose whenever he was reminded that Matthew knew of Ludwig and Feliciano did not come. He waited for it, waited for that burning anger and almost vengeful spirit, but it was gone. It left a trail of helplessness and guilt, so much guilt, behind. He tilted his head back against the tree and slipped a hand into his pocket. He ran a thumb over the iron cross pendant hidden within it, the thing he barely had time to pick up the night he and Matthew left his home. Ludwig’s old cross, the most valuable piece of metal Gilbert owns. His fingers shook.

“Yeah.” He flexed his toes, his stomach churned, and his heart pounded. His face itched with a strange flush, as it always did whenever he spoke about his family. He supposed it was better to say whenever he _thought_ about them, since he never spoke of such personal things. “Guess it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Feli’s family lives there, it used to be his home. Of course I’m gonna be protective of it.”

Gilbert knew Matthew was not a bad person, but if he proved to be any sort of threat for those Fae, he would put those hunting daggers to use. It was the least he could do for the one he had lost.

Matthew was quiet, and Gilbert wished he wasn’t. He did not want to be alone with these thoughts. He did not want to think about running through the mountains as he sobbed, as he heard the same cries and gasps from Feliciano. He did not want to remember having to stop so they could vomit, as they nearly choked on their own bile as they sat back on burning legs and tried to breathe through enflamed lungs. He did not want to think of Feli’s pale face as he pressed his hands to his stomach, as if he couldn’t bear the pain, as if he could not go on. He refused, utterly _refused_, to think of the night, a mere two nights after they had run from their village, after watching their loved one get stabbed, that they separated.

“I’ll be right back, Feli,” Gilbert had promised, kissing his little brother’s temple. “We have to eat something or we’re going to starve.”

Feliciano had let him, and Gilbert found a stream, a stream that engulfed and took him down, down, _down_ the mountain, and when he managed to climb out, when he could get to the bank, when he could climb up, up, _up_ the mountain-

_“Gilbert!”_Hands were on his arm, nudging him. Air flooded his lungs, and he gasped for breath as he grasped the front of his shirt. He could barely comprehend the way his hands were shaking. Gods, no. _No_. He would not go down that road. Not here, not in front of Matthew. He bent his head as he coughed, shivering violently as Matthew rubbed circles into his back. He flinched away from the touch and Matthew dropped his hands. “By the gods,” he whispered. “Are you… what… are you okay?”

“_Yes_,” Gilbert croaked, flipping a hand in Matthew’s face. “Yes, fine. I-I just haven’t had a beer for a whole damn week. Yeah, that’s all. M-my body just isn’t used to it.”

If Matthew said one word, if he tried proving him wrong, Gilbert was going to scream. He could not handle questions, he did not want the pity. He did not want Matthew to openly say what Gilbert really was, and that was nothing more than a coward. A coward who could not save either one of his brothers.

A blanket was draped around his shoulders. He blinked, and stared at the white thing they had stolen from that inn almost an entire week ago. Matthew’s hands were quickly smoothing it down around him, as if he was trying not to linger. He wanted to snap for him to get away, to stop, but Matthew didn’t. It must have showed in his eyes, because those lavender eyes hardened when they met his.

“Say what you will, Gilbert, but a little bit of warmth will help you, no matter what’s wrong.”

Gilbert just stared at Matthew, his mind a jumbled mess. He could smell the concern on Matthew. There was no judgement, no bitterness, and no curiosity. Just overwhelming concern. He did not know how to comprehend that, nor did he know what it meant. He was not too sure if he wanted to.

“Get some sleep,” Matthew murmured, finally looking away. “You seem like you need it.”

But Gilbert knew he would not be able to sleep. He would lay awake for hours, as he always did, and just think. He would see blue and amber eyes, hear a gruff voice speaking to him as they worked in a shop, listen to gentle singing from a kitchen, and smell some delicious sweet that was created by two pairs of hands, one rough and one smooth. He needed a distraction.

“Could you tell me about your family instead?” Gilbert asked, the words awkwardly tumbling out before he could stop them. “Your coven, I mean.” The words were left unspoken, but he had a feeling Matthew heard them. _I don’t want to sleep yet because I’m terrified._

Matthew did not question it. He did not falter from the quickly changing mood, he just nodded and started to speak about the steppes of Glaceria and a woman named Adhan.

Above them, the hawk fluttered its wings and took off into the evening.

.

_“Oh, my name is Feliciano! It’s so nice to meet you, and thank you so much for saving me. They would have stolen all of the money I have if it weren’t for you! What’s your name?”_

The Wolf twirled a dagger around in his hand. He spun it, around and around, up and down, left and right. His thick fingers barely touched the hilt as it moved deftly between them. His eyes were trained on the actual blade gleaming in the fire he was sitting beside, watching as the red and yellow color danced against stainless steel.

_“It’s freezing out here, don’t you think? Springtime is always so much better in my opinion, because everything is starting anew! It smells good, too since all the flowers are blooming. Baby’s-breath, lavender, lilies, and daises especially. Oh, wait… You’re giving me your jacket? Oh. Thank you.”_

Faster it spun, going around and around. How many throats has it slit? How many fingers has it sliced off? Or the sword at his back, his Zweihander. How many heads has it chopped? How many skulls has it crushed? How many body parts has it dismembered? How many times has someone looked him in the eye and screamed in fear, in panic, in agony? All for the glory of King Alexander. Yes, it was all for him…

_“You would do anything for me? Oh, gosh, you’re making me blush. For someone who struggles with romance, you certainly know how to treat an omega. Awh, now you’re blushing! You’re so cute.”_

The Wolf gritted his teeth, hard enough they seemed to groan in his mouth. This voice, the one that sounded like bluebells chiming in the springtime, the one that could sing to the heavens, needed to leave him alone. The one that he has heard laugh…

_“Stop! That tickles! Oh, my gosh, stop!”_

And cry…

_“I’m dreaming… Of course I’ll be your mate!”_

And moan…

_“Oh… oh, gods, I love you…”_

And scream…

_“NO! Come back… NO!”_

The Wolf snarled and threw the dagger into the blazing fire. It hissed in protest at the foreign object being placed within it, the flames flickering as if they were actually uncertain by this thing intruding it. He was losing his mind. He could not get this siren’s voice out of his head. It was making him sick. He did not want to continue listening to whoever was speaking to him.

_**Oh, but you love it,**_ a dark and demonic voice purred from his mind. _**You love listening to that voice. You torture yourself by listening to it, because you know you will never hear it again.**_

This voice the Wolf was familiar with. Every time the black stone was wrapped around his neck, this voice emerged. It whispered to him, all the time it said such foul things to him. It was the reason for the carnage and gore in his head, for the holes in his memory, and for the unnecessary shocks of pain that went through him whenever his mind strayed too far away from his missions.

_**I can keep playing it for you,**_ the voice whispered. _**Would you like to hear it scream in absolute agony?**_

The Wolf closed his eyes as a scream ripped through his head, one that sounded so real. Images assaulted his mind, of a beautiful male Fae being torn to shreds, again and again. His golden blood dripped from a monster in black fur, with its white fangs tearing into the Fae’s stomach. Again and again. He could not tell if this was real or not. Had it happened? Was this an image from the past, or just a figment of his imagination? The Wolf began bouncing his leg up and down.

_ **You like this better. You like seeing him in pain. You like to hear him call for you, even though you cannot answer. You want to watch him get abused, hurt, whipped, destroyed until there is nothing left of him. You like it! But maybe it doesn’t matter, because maybe he’s already dead. His body could already be plucked clean by the vultures, leaving nothing but his pretty white bones. How does that sound? You want him dead? You do, you want him gone from this world, but you want to be the one to end him, because you’re a possessive sick alpha.** _

“Shut up,” the Wolf growled. He ran his hands through his hair and pulled it. How does he get this voice to _shut the fuck up_? “Shut up.”

He was fed more pictures, more clippings of destruction. One right after the other. They moved so quickly they were making him dizzy. It should have been a blur, but he could still see them. The Fae was rotting in the earth in one. In another he was drowning. Strung up in a tree, skin melted off, scars on his back from a whip, no eyes, no teeth, no nothing, just gone… gone… everything gone…

_ **Oh? Or maybe the pretty Fae is alive. You know what happens to omegas like him, right? Right? I bet you had to chase off so many alphas that wanted a bite, huh?** _

“Stop,” the Wolf whispered through gritted teeth. “I’m thinking of the mission. That’s all I’m thinking about, just the mission.”

_ **Look, look, look. Look what happened to him, look what other alphas did to him. You could have saved him, but you did not. Because you like seeing him in misery. It gives you delight. It gives you pleasure. Even I, a daemon, am disgusted by the sadistic lust you harbor for this poor Fae! Or was he your mate? Certainly not anymore, not after all the alphas he has been with. I bet he enjoyed it. He might say he doesn’t want it, but of course he does! Look, look at the pleasure on his face. My, what a fun slutty omega you had.** _

These pictures caused the Wolf physical pain somewhere deep inside of him. They were so grotesque, so painful. He couldn’t look away, he didn’t know how. The Fae, the one… oh, gods. His name… his name. What was his name, he couldn’t even remember.

_ **His name is Feliciano, and if he isn’t dead by now, he’s enjoying himself on another alpha’s-** _

“Shut up!” The Wolf’s hands went for his neck this time, to pull the damn collar off. His nails scratched at his skin, reopening older scabs from nights just like this one. Off… off… he could not take the taunting, could not take the pictures of his- no, of that Fae being hurt, abused, killed. He needed it off, _off. Get it off take it off get this damn thing off or he was going to lose the last part of his mind off off off off he needed it off-_

The sound of fluttering wings cut through the dark, red haze of his mind. It was like a beacon of light, chasing the demonic voice away, chasing it into the darkest crevices of his mind. He was empty, filled with nothing but darkness and pain once again. Yes, this he could live with. This was what he needed to concentrate on.

The Wolf stood up as a brown-and-white hawk lowered itself to the ground. A brief flash of light exploded from the hawk, and when the light vanished, an alpha dressed in a black uniform stood in the bird’s place. He put a hand to his heart as a salute. “General. I have-” The alpha paused. “With all due respect, sir. Are you alright? You look sickly, sir.”

“I’m just fine,” the Wolf grumbled. “Give me your report.”

The soldier, one of the ten with him, saluted once more. “Sir. I have found the boy and his companion. They were talking about a group of Fae hiding within the Orlon Forest, and about a book of prophecies known apparently as the _Fabula_ containing the whereabouts of someone called the Once and Future King. It sounds like they are on their way to visit those apparent Fae to get their hands on that book.”

The boy had found the location of the Fae hiding inside Avalon, and that’s where he was headed. And those other things… what the hell did any of that mean? These were things not even the Wolf has heard of. “Very well. How far are they?”

“Sir. In my form, they are about five hours away, resting inside a forest. In your form, sir, I believe they are a half a day away.”

Finally. After an entire week of relentlessly hunting that damn creature, of finally finding the scent of the boy and his companion, they were almost in his grasp. The companion did not matter, he could be disposed of. The boy was needed, for King Alexander would want to spare a word with him. “I will leave immediately. You and the others will follow me in the morning, but I wish to get a head start tonight.”

It would keep his damn mind occupied.

The soldier bowed. “Yes, sir, but before you go…” He glanced at the rest of their comrades sleeping around them, huddled in blankets or the furs of their beastly forms. “The boy looks like a spitting image of Prince Alfred. It could have just been my eyes playing tricks on me, but do be careful. In case… well. In case something is amiss.”

A strange boy that looks like the heir to Avalon’s throne? The Wolf would have to see that to believe it. “I will keep it in mind. Good work, soldier.”

Without wasting anymore time, the Wolf shed his human skin for his beastly form, a black dire wolf. He tilted his head back to sniff the air, letting all of the smells hit him at once. He narrowed in on the one, buried among many, that smelt of maple, cinnamon, and rain. It was like a string, tightening it the more he focused. With a growl leaving him, he tore off after it, kicking up dried leaves and brush as he went. The boy was almost his, and after that he would find those Fae hiding in the Orlon Forest.

_“Oh, my name is Feliciano! It’s so nice to meet you, and thank you so much for saving me. They would have stolen all of the money I have if it weren’t for you! What’s your name?”_

The Wolf realized he no longer knew the answer to that question.

.

“There! We can wait out the storm under that tree!” Gilbert shouted over the howling wind.

He and Matthew hurried over to the uprooted oak, its huge tendrils blanketed with layers of snow. The dark ground underneath it seemed to be completely bare, thankfully. They wouldn’t be able to stoke a fire, but at least they could get out of this snowstorm.

The first snow hit earlier than expected. When they awoke the next morning, it was already falling. As the hours of morning passed, it only came down harder and faster. There was frost in Gilbert’s hair, and Matthew’s entire body glistened with little flakes. He was sure his own body looked the same.

When they made it to the tree, Matthew handed Gilbert his staff and then carefully crouched down to crawl between the roots. His body moved slowly, and his face was pinched in concentration. Gilbert tried not to wince. The cold must have made his knee stiff. Once Matthew was finally inside, Gilbert placed the staff inside, followed by his hunting daggers and crossbow to keep them from banging against the roots on his way in. He huffed as he finally made it inside, keeping himself on his knees so he wouldn’t hit his head.

“Damn snow,” he grumbled. He brushed the snow from his long leather jacket, letting it fall to the dry ground below. “We should be lucky it’s not colder, or else we’d be in some deep shit.”

No, it was not freezing. It was cold, but it was by no means unbearable.

Pain was written across Matthew’s face as he rubbed his knee. It looked larger, like it was swollen, though Gilbert hoped it was just a trick of the light. “How long do you think this is going to last?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say it should let up by tonight,” he replied, peering at the white blur swirling beyond their little cage. Even though it was delaying them, it was still a beautiful scene, as the flakes fluttered around rowan trees and holly bushes, and the faint, almost blue-looking, sunlight from behind the clouds caused there to be a heavenly glow within the forest. It gave this wild terrain a peaceful look. Their tracks leading to the tree were already covered by a fresh dusting. “Avalonian snows can be harsh, but we’re far enough away from the mountains that this one shouldn’t be too bad.”

Matthew breathed into his hands as he rubbed them together. “Let’s hope.”

Gilbert stared into the wilderness for a moment longer before he pushed himself closer to Matthew, away from the onslaught of the cold. At least they had time to hunt this morning before the real brunt of it hit. They might have to go without dinner, unless Gilbert wanted to trek out in the dark to follow stale animal tracks, and that just did not sound pleasant. Too bad Kuma wasn’t here anymore.

“You sure that bear is gonna be okay?” he asked. Kuma had left them again, going his own way through the snow to find shelter for himself. Matthew claimed it would be fine, that these snows were nothing for a white bear whose kind hailed from the kingdom of Norge, a place almost as cold as Glaceria.

“I promise you he will be. He has an extra layer of fur and skin to protect himself from the cold, that’s why he’s so big.” Matthew shot a wry smile at him, his pain replaced with amusement. “I think you’re actually getting attached to him.”

“Oh please.” Gilbert looked away with a frown. “I woke up this morning to that damn thing drooling on me. He was thinking about eating me, I know he was.”

Matthew laughed, and a faint scent of maple tickled Gilbert’s nose. “You’re too boney for him.”

Gilbert guffawed. “Do you enjoy making fun of alphas, or am I just lucky?”

“I wouldn’t know. You’re the first alpha I’ve spoken to for longer than an hour.”

Throughout the small time they’ve been together, Gilbert has forgotten how _new_ Matthew seems to be. Sure, he can use a bow, he has gods damn visions, and he has apparently held his own for three months before he met Gilbert, but when he says stuff like that, it shows how young he is. He learned Matthew was cut off from the world, living with a coven of witches on the steppes of Glaceria. He traveled to small towns in Glaceria to do minor things witches do, and he’s read thousands of books, but human interaction? The bare minimum.

“I’m honored, kid.” He shot a small grin Matthew’s way, and Matthew responded with a tiny glare though there wasn’t any fire behind it.

“You really need to drop the nickname, or at least come up with a better one.”

“Ooh, I do love a challenge!” Gilbert leaned closer, his grin becoming wider. There was a faint pounding in his head from the lack of alcohol in his bloodstream, but he ignored it in favor of teasing Matthew, a new found favorite hobby. “Is this what we’re gonna do while we wait out the storm? Come up with silly nicknames?”

Matthew huffed. “You can, but I’m going to try and get some sleep.” His voice lowered as he murmured, “Perhaps I will have a vision.”

“You only have visions when you sleep?”

Matthew visibly hesitated. Gilbert watched him carefully as he took his glasses off and began absentmindedly cleaning them with his cloak. “No. Most of them come to me when I’m awake. A few powerful ones have entered my dreams, though.”

Gilbert hummed. This vision thing was strange to him, but at the same time it was fascinating. It was different, something he never thought to be real. Or… was it different? A scene entered his mind, one of his childhood. His small hand was wrapped around Ludwig’s as they silently watched their _Stiefmutter_ kneel to the ground and hold her head in her hands. Her brown hands looked white as she pulled her hair and mumbled weird, incoherent things. Before long their father brushed by them and knelt beside her and held her against his chest. He pressed his head close to her own, causing his long blond hair to mingle with her thick black hair.

“Don’t worry, boys,” his father said to them that night, after their _Stiefmutter_ had been put to bed. “She gets chronic headaches, some so bad that they make her see things. She will be fine, she just needs to sleep.”

The scene escaped from Gilbert’s mind, leaving him a bit hollow. Why on earth had he thought of that particular time? He was being foolish, comparing his stepmother’s headaches to Matthew’s vision. What, did he think someone his stepmother had visions? That was ridiculous. He summed the thought up to his mind still being shaky after last night’s little episode.

“Uh, have you had a vision since you’ve been with me?” He felt like he needed to say something after that embarrassingly long pause.

It didn’t seem to matter, Matthew took almost just as long to reply. “Just one. When you sent me away, I had a vision of those soldiers coming, and I could tell they weren’t far.”

He did not want to remember that. The terror that had washed over him as Matthew yelled about soldiers dressed in black, marching toward his little shack. The first time he had seen such scary soldiers, they had grabbed his stepmother and thrown her atop a horse and burned his father at the stake. The last time he had seen them, they stabbed his brother and burned down his entire village.

“I call them Shadow Soldiers,” Gilbert muttered. “I came up with the name as a kid.”

Matthew stilled. “As a…” His voice caught. Gilbert stared at their boots. He refused to a look up when he felt those intelligent and sharp violet eyes on him. “You saw them as a child, too?”

“Yeah.” He breathed out softly as he tried to shake the nerves starting to cling to him. He would not freak out like he did last night. He would not reach into his jacket out of habit to grab his flask. There wasn’t anything in there now anyway. “Everything on them was black, and it didn’t look like they wore an inch of armor. A roaring lion was stitched on the front of their uniforms, the King of Avalon’s emblem. I thought they moved like shadows when I was a kid, so that’s what I referred to them as. It’s obvious they’re some kind of elite fighters of the king, good enough that they don’t wear any armor.”

The wind roared outside as Gilbert poked at the dirt. Sometimes he still heard his stepmother’s screams as she cried for the soldiers to stop, to get away from her family, but they did not listen. They barely said anything, just like his father as he burned. Silent, stoic, and noble. It seemed every Beilschmidt was just that, except for him. He brushed the thought away.

“You said you wanted to sleep, so you do that. I’ll stay up and think of a great nickname for you.”

Airy laughter came from Matthew, and he wrapped his arms around himself. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Gilbert smiled despite his dark memories just moments ago. Matthew seemed to have that effect on him.

...

Two hours passed before the hair along Gilbert’s arms stood up. That meant something bad was lurking around, something that could pose a threat. He put down one of the hunting daggers he had been cleaning to pass the time and just listened. The glow from outside was stronger as morning turned into the afternoon, and the snow no longer pelted down with a vengeance and the wind did not moan like before.

There was a strange silence brought on by this snow.

Gilbert leaned away from the slumbering Matthew to get just a bit closer to the entrance. Absolutely nothing. He held his breath. Never before had his instincts been wrong.

And then he heard crunching. Feet moving in the snow.

Someone was close.

Someone was moving _closer_.

It could be anyone, just a traveler like Gilbert and Matthew, but if that were the case, why was Gilbert- an alpha who had a bit of _predator blood_ inside of him- dying to run, to get away from whoever was coming closer?

He leaned back and wrapped an arm around Matthew’s shoulders to reach his mouth. He placed a hand over it and nudged the beta awake. Violet eyes blinked open, and his scent spiked with alarm. Gilbert leaned his face closer and brought his free hand up to his own mouth, and extended a finger to his lips. They needed to be quiet. Matthew’s eyes widened as he slowly nodded, prompting Gilbert to draw his hand away from Matthew’s mouth.

Quiet again, not a single sound in the forest. Had the person walked away? He angled his body to face the opening right as a hand wrapped itself around his arm. He looked back. Matthew was staring at him with impossibly wide eyes. Was he scared to let Gilbert look? Despite his own uncertainty and growing fear, he flashed him a grin. It would be okay.

He inched closer to the opening. A gentle wind kissed his face, and with it, he breathed. He couldn’t smell anything and he still could not see anything. Right as he was about to lean closer to the opening, two black boots stepped into view from behind their tree, leveled with his face.

Gilbert recoiled in shock, slowly sliding back into Matthew’s rapidly rising chest. Black boots with a small golden lion emblem on the heels… Oh gods, they had been found.

Gilbert held his breath as he quietly reached for his hunting dagger. If this bastard tracked them all the way here, his sense of smell must be incredible. It shouldn’t take him any time to find them lying inside the uprooted oak, a place where they would be at the mercy of whatever weapon he carried with him. His hand tightened around the hilt of his own weapon. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. His moves were rusty, but he would fight, at least until Matthew could escape.

But an attack from the person outside never came. The boots started walking away in the opposite direction. The movements were slow, like a predator… trying to find its prey? Could the alpha not smell them? Gilbert took a whiff of the air and found it to be incredibly empty, aside from a very putrid scent that had not been there before, meaning it was probably coming from the black clad soldier. There was nothing but that weird scent.

Could the snow be concealing their own scent?

Gilbert swallowed the dryness in his mouth. Maybe they weren’t dead after all. He quietly crept closer to the entrance, ignoring Matthew’s sharp intake of breath. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the soldier. Oh, this was most definitely a Shadow Soldier. Every inch of him was clad in black, and there seemed to be some type of scarf covering his head, probably shielding it from the snow. At his back was a huge sword, definitely a Zweihander if the two handles were anything to go by. To carry a sword that big on your back meant this alpha- there was no way someone as large as him was a beta or omega- was strong. He turned his head to the side, and Gilbert froze. His father’s words from long ago echoed in his mind.

_“When you’re facing a wolf, think rationally. Do not make any sudden movements, they will attack. Do not look back if you have to run from them, they are fast and will most certainly catch you if you look. And most importantly, remember your name and do not be afraid. We are Beilschmidt’s. We _are_ wolves, we do not cower at the sight of one.”_

_‘Treat this enemy like a wolf,’_ he thought to himself. ‘_Make no sudden movements, do not look back if you have to run, and do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt, first son of Aldrich Beilschmidt, and I will not be afraid. Remember what they took from you, and do not be afraid.’_

The soldier stood still, probably scenting the air from behind the mesh covering his nose and mouth. He looked back to the spot in front of him, giving Gilbert the opportunity to slide back down. Matthew was staring at him with wide eyes, and Gilbert was struck by the amount of terror in them. They reminded him of Ludwig’s wide eyes on the day their father was killed, and of Feliciano’s eyes the night their village was burned. On two separate occasions, someone had looked at him for guidance and protection, and he had let them down. He refused to do it again. He nodded at Matthew as the levers in his mind began working.

The enemy was undoubtedly strong, and it was probably smart to assume he was intelligent. Other than him, the forest was still. Could that mean he was the only one? But there were so many on the night they burned down his shack. If they were here, hiding somewhere, he and Matthew were done for. No. If there were more of them, he would hear them. There was no way that many soldiers could be this silent. So one soldier... They could wait him out. No, that would be foolish. He would check this spot whether or not he could smell them. That left one option.

Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew until his lips were directly against his ear. “I’m going to get him to chase me.” Matthew went completely still. “And when we’re gone, you’re going to run to wherever Kuma is hiding and you are going to get the hell out of here. I will leave the longbow and one of the hunting daggers for you, in case you have to fight.”

He leaned away and reached for his crossbow. Then he grabbed one arrow, that’s all he could carry for now. Perhaps he could have a chance at shooting the alpha from afar. Or… or he could shoot him right here. He looked back at Matthew, and their eyes lit up. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

There was a crunch, followed by another. And another. Closer and closer it came. Gilbert looked and saw the soldier _walking toward them_. By the time he put the arrow in the bow and pulled the trigger, the soldier could have them skewered on his blade. Back to the first plan. Gilbert reached over and squeezed Matthew’s hand once before he darted out from underneath the tree.

The soldier froze and so did Gilbert. This guy was terrifying to look at. The black emblem was there on his chest, and the thing concealing his face was not a scarf. It was some strange black hood that covered everything but his eyes. They were blue, that’s all he could gather from here. He forced himself to smile even though his knees were shaking.

_‘Protect Matthew.’_

“Looking for me, you monster? Come get me then.” And then he turned around and tore away from the tree.

There was the possibility that he would not come, that he would think there was someone else hiding underneath that tree. If that were the case, Gilbert would have to load his bow and fire as quickly as he could. He was once a sharpshooter, he once considered himself the best damn shot on this entire continent. He could claim that title again right here, where it counted.

But it didn’t seem like that title would be claimed today from the sound of heavy boots slamming against the snow. The soldier was following, he was leaving Matthew. Gilbert almost, _almost_, let out a cheer of triumph, but he couldn’t. He needed to think of where it was he was going.

He did not know this forest, did not know the places to hide or the places to avoid. He would have to follow instinct and just _run_. Do not look back. He would not look back. The snow fluttered into his eyes, but all he could do was blink them clear. Do not stop. Keep going. His legs were already starting to burn from the trek through the layer of snow, and it felt like it was pulling him down. He could only hope it was having the same effect on the soldier. Keep going, no matter how long he has to run, he will _keep going._ Matthew should already be running, or doing his own version of running. Kuma will protect him, and if Gilbert makes it, he can find him.

The boots were getting louder. How can the guy run so fast? Gilbert ducked underneath an overhanging branch and then immediately served into a patch of brambles. He jumped over it, hoping that would at least provide an obstacle for the solider. Faster… faster… Oh, gods.

_‘I know I don’t pray to you gods because I think you’re all full of shit, but I need your help. Keep me going for a little longer, just until Matthew is safe and far away. Then you can have me, but until then keep me running.’_

The boots started again, along with a very angry, guttural growl. If anything he was just pissing off the soldier. Fine. As long as the attention was kept on him. Just keep running, and don’t slow done. Don’t turn around, and don’t be afraid.

_‘I am Gilbert Beilschmidt. I am the first son of Aldrich Elias Beilschmidt, and I will not be afraid.’_

The breath caught in his lungs as a huge dip in the land appeared, connected only by a fallen tree. With a layer of snow across it. He could slip and easily fall into that dip, which would not be a problem if he was not being chased. Damnit. _Damnit._

_No_. He was part shapeshifter. Dire wolves knew the forest, they knew how to cross damn bridges with confidence. He would not shame his family by hesitating, by falling, or by failing. Gilbert took a breath and let out the loudest battle cry he could muster with flaming lungs as he flung himself onto the bridge and ran. Everyone called him crazy, so he was going to be crazy. He was going to _run_ on steady legs, “part” shapeshifter be damned. The breath misted around him as he let himself be carried by his feet, and watched the other side inch closer and closer. His feet slipped right at the end, but he was close enough to jump to the other side without a problem. He did not turn around to see that was happening behind him.

He had no idea how much time had passed, he had no way to tell how long he had been running. He should be in pain, but he felt nothing. He was on fire. He felt like he could take on this whole damn, cruel world. He gritted his teeth as his mouth quirked up into a grin. He used to smile in the face of danger. He will happily do it again.

Boots, running, growls, snarls, the soldier was gaining on him. He crossed that bridge quickly. Maybe the spirit of a beast ran within him too. What did it matter? Gilbert could be faster. He would not succumbed to a monster wearing the same uniform as those who took everything from him. His name was Gilbert Beilschmidt and he would not fall to such pigs!

The trees around him disappeared, giving way to the cloudy sky above. The earth against his own boots softened, but he did not look down. He did not look down as the ground hardened, as something cold seeped into his shoes. He did not stop until he could no longer hear the sound of someone chasing him. Taking in lungful’s of air, Gilbert shakily shoved the arrow into its socket and placed a hand on the trigger below. Then he narrowed his eyes, aimed the crossbow, and turned around.

The Shadow Soldier was completely still. His chest was not heaving up and down like Gilbert’s, he did not seem to be struggling to breathe. He was an immovable, black shadow. But why wasn’t he chasing Gilbert anymore?

Something groaned.

Gilbert chanced a look down.

Ice. He had run onto a frozen lake without even noticing.

He slowly looked back up. The soldier took five calculated steps to the lake and unsheathed his Zweihander. Gilbert counted his own breaths.

_One._

The soldier raised his sword.

_Two._

Gilbert pulled the trigger of his crossbow.

_Three._

The blade connected with the ice.

_Four._

His arrow sank into the soldier’s arm.

_Five._

The soldier twisted the sword.

_Six._

The ice began to crack.

_Seven._

Gilbert turned back around and ran.

_Eight._

The cracking ice was expanding rapidly.

_Nine._

Gilbert recalled thinking earlier he was lucky the temperature was not freezing and cursed himself.

_Ten._

The ice around Gilbert cracked and he fell into the lake.

_Ele-_

_The cold was unlike anything he ever felt before._

Gilbert tried to gasp for air, but the ice cold water flooded into his mouth instead. He flailed, trying desperately to cling onto something, anything, but his mind would not focus. He coughed as he tried to swim, to kick his legs, to do _something_ but the cold was so intense, it was inescapable. His arms flung out above him, his legs kicked out beneath him, and his eyes widened at the shimmering surface. Swim. _Swim. Swim like before._

And then he was flung back to the past, of when he was on that mountain with Feliciano. It was hot, it was just days after the summer solstice, and they had to eat. He needed to hunt. Feliciano had been sick all day, throwing up almost every hour. He needed to rest. So Gilbert left him there and went to hunt.

He found a rushing stream, and across were deer. Food. Food for Feliciano. Food for him. He killed one from across the water without even thinking. He was a sharpshooter, he did not need to think when he killed. He just needed to cross the stream. One stone. Two stone. Three stone- Head hitting a stone, blood pooling around him, water carrying him down. Breathe, had to breathe. Up, swim up. Go. Get to Feliciano _your dead brother had one request and you can’t even accomplish that._ Down, down, all the way to the mountain, through waterfalls and creeks, down with a bleeding head, down the mountain. Dizzy, climb. Climb up. Break the surface. Climb the mountain, get to Feliciano. Feliciano was there, he was still there. Was he still sick? Was he still crying? Find him, build a house, and hold each other through the night. _Find your new found little brother._

Days? Nights? How long had it been? So long. Too long. Legs are tired, arms are tired. There, spot where Feliciano was. Feliciano Beilschmidt. He has your last name, _because your dead brother gave it to him._ Feliciano? Feliciano? _Feliciano?_

Golden blood. Golden blood is there, and so is red blood. No… No. Search. Look. Body hurt, fangs grew longer, senses grew sharper, head hurt, no longer standing on two feet, can’t remember anything. Feliciano. Who? Search. For who?

_He’s dead._

Find him.

_You’re going to look at a dead body._

Go to the Orolon Forest, tell his family. What were their names… A brother and his mate. Names names names _Lovino and Antonio._

_And they’re going to gut the shapeshifter who left their brother behind to die._

He was sick, he could have died from that.

_You know why he was throwing up. You know what he and Ludwig wanted._

I am a monster.

_You are a monster._

Nights… nights in the mountains. Wandering, how? Can’t remember anything. Wake up in the mountains, away. Alone. Vomit. Alone. Ludwig? Dead. Feliciano? Dead. Unborn child? _Dead._ Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt?

_Finally about to die._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Four…

Oh, no. He never got to tell Matthew the new nickname he came up with.

.

The Wolf was nothing but a fool. It was the only thought swirling in his head as he watched the white haired man splutter and try to grab onto one of the chunks of ice floating around. He stared for a moment, then another, his mind an empty haze of pure rage and all of it was directed at himself.

He was a fool.

The Wolf stared at the man one final time before he turned around and started back the way he came. His arm throbbed with pain from the arrow protruding from it, but for now he ignored it. No vital organs had been hit, and no veins were punctured. It was just a last, desperate act for the white haired alpha to save himself. With his uninjured arm, he slipped his Zweihander back into its sheath and then continued to follow their tracks. It just reminded him of his own stupidity.

Why had he followed after that man? His scent was not the boy’s, it was harsher, like iron and fire, not sweet and spicy. He had even told his soldiers the companion would just be disposed of. The boy had probably been hiding with the alpha underneath the tree, but he hadn’t even checked. He just followed the alpha.

The Wolf stopped walking as the gentle flakes fell down from the sky. Why did he run after the man like he did? He felt like he was missing some important piece to a puzzle, but it was more than one little piece. It was a gigantic chunk, right in the middle. He pulled down the black mesh covering his mouth and tasted the air. The smell of iron and fire hung faintly in the air. Could it have something to do with the scent of the man? Had he smelt it before?

“Maybe you have,” a harsh, accented voice said from behind him. “But you just can’t remember it because the guy who had that scent is dead.”

The Wolf did not turn around to look at the thing speaking. The voice rang in his ears, echoed through him like he was a hollow cave. He pressed a hand to his ear as loud ringing started to chime within it. He didn’t want to hear that voice, but it kept speaking behind him.

“What’s wrong, little brother? Scared to see me? Yeah, I don’t blame you since I’m not too happy with you, monster.”

“He has a right to be mad.” This voice spoke from his left. It had the same accent as the first, but the pitch was much lower, and his words were slow. It was a voice he could not remember. “You are a disgrace to this family.”

“Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of it.” The Wolf’s eyes widened at the siren’s voice. He didn’t want to hear it anymore. His mind always spiraled out of control whenever he listened. “But I’m going to leave it now. I found another one that will take care of me just fine. After all, I don’t want to share my bed with an incompetent alpha like you.”

The ringing in his ears became louder and louder, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the three voices behind him. Why were they speaking to him? What the hell did they _want_?

_ **Listen to them, they don’t love you. Maybe they never did. Family? Don’t make me laugh, mutt. Family is nothing. They leave you, use you, and spit on you. They don’t really care for you. Your brother was jealous of your powers, your father blamed you for your mother’s death, and your mate? We’ve been over that time and time again.** _

The Wolf gritted his teeth. It felt like his ears were bleeding from how loud the ringing was getting. Small shocks of pain slithered over his body from the pulsing collar around his neck, and it squeezed him harder and harder. A reminder that he needed to get a grip. Somewhere around him, there was a cry of pain. It took him a moment to realize the sound came from him.

_ **We go over this every time we put the collar on. You don’t need them. They are nothing. They are dead, rotting in the earth somewhere. Or they have forgotten about you completely! They are NOTHING to you, do you understand? Kill them. Use your blade and murder them. They’re behind you right now, kill them. Kill them kill kill kill kill kill** _

Kill them. The Wolf let go of one of his ears and rested his palm against the hilt of his sword. He unsheathed it slowly. The voices behind him were getting louder again, shouting words at him like a choir of daemons. Monster, killer, destroyer, nothing but a mutt. Nothing at all. Some part of him was screaming, trying to tell him something. What was it? The voices were too loud for him to understand it.

_ **Give me control and we will work together. We work best together. Give me complete control. We are perfect together. That’s why you’re wearing that collar, because King Alexander knows just how much power we have when we’re one. And don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t have to hear that slut’s voice anymore. All you have to do right now is kill those three behind you.** _

Complete control and no more voices… The Wolf unsheathed his blade and spun on his heel to face the three figures speaking. One with white hair, one with long blond hair, and the other with auburn hair. Shadows concealed their faces, all except for their mouths. They were moving rapidly with taunting words spilling from them. He gritted his teeth. They really needed to shut up.

He swung his blade, and it cut through each of them without any sort of resistance. They dropped to the snowy ground and disappeared completely, not a single trace left. The ringing in his ears ceased. Something dark seemed to settle within him. It was cold, and numbed him to everything. No pain, no memories, no emotions. His face settled into one of stone cold emptiness.

He gripped the arrow sticking in his arm and pulled it out without even flinching. He felt nothing, except for the blood dripping down his arm underneath his shirt. He would wrap it later.

There was a purr within his mind, like stones hitting iron. _**Good. Very good. Now what are we going to do? Tell me tell me. Shed blood, let’s cut into some maggots.**_

The Wolf sheathed his Zweihander and started back on the path, a sharp clarity in his mind now. Ah, yes. He remembered now. Every time this collar was put on him, the first weeks were rough until he relented and gave way for the daemon trapped inside of it. When it was quiet like this, he never knew why he resisted.

“We’re going to meet back up with the other soldiers,” he vocally replied. “And then we’re going to find the boy’s trail once more, but we’re not going to kill him yet. We’re going to follow it, and he is going to unknowingly lead us right to the Fae.”

_**Good. Good… Spill more blood. It is rumored Faerie blood tastes like nectar. We can figure it out.**_ The voice paused. The Wolf could feel it slithering around in his mind like a snake. It was so much better than those other voices. _**And what about that mate of yours? I thought you didn’t like hurting Fae because of him.**_

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The Wolf stepped onto the tree bridge and lifted the mesh over his mouth again. “I have no mate.”

.

.

.

Death was much colder than Gilbert thought it would be. It was much brighter too. There was a glow coming from somewhere, and it was creating dark splashes in his vision, movement. They were like shadows. He narrowed his eyes, or at least attempted to. His head hurt so much. He tried shifting but realized he could not move. He was completely immobilized. Was that normal in death? Was there anyone he could ask?

Red eyes peered down at him, startling him greatly. There was a man looking down at him. Untamed, wild silver hair was sprawled all around his sharp-jawed face. He could barely see a little ponytail at the back of his head. He was dressed in a bit of armor, all black and red, but he could not make out the emblem on the front of his uniform.

Had a soldier come to take him to the afterlife? He looked pretty cool, especially his eyes. The red things narrowed into slits as they took a look at his body. At least, Gilbert thought that’s what he was doing. He couldn’t tell. Everything was a bit fuzzy. He wanted to ask who the man was, but when he tried to speak, his lips flapped around air. They tingled. They hurt. Wow, his entire body hurt.

“Do not be afraid.” The man had a light and gentle voice. It didn’t match his face at all. “You have been found.”

Found? Who found him? What he had been hiding from originally?

“Follow him.” The man crouched to the ground, bending easily on lithe knees. His red eyes softened into wide-eyes. Where had Gilbert seen those eyes before? “Follow him closely.”

Follow who?

“Merlin.” The man smiled. His teeth were as sharp as fangs. And then his face morphed. His long silver hair shortened and became messy and white. His gentle eyes took on a harsher glint. His skinny legs became thicker, and his shoulders became just a bit broader. Gilbert was looking at himself, dressed in black and red armor. He watched himself stand and turn around.

“Follow Merlin, Gawain the White Wolf.”

Someone was touching him. He could feel their hands moving in vigorous strokes, like they were rubbing his body. He blinked, and blinked again. Those things he thought were dancing on the walls were shadows and they were caused by a fire. A great roaring thing close to him.

“Oh thank the gods. You’re coming to.”

Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to feel something, but he could feel nothing but a fuzzy and warm mass behind him. The only thing he could feel from his body was the shaking. His teeth were chattering too. What happened? Where was he? He was so cold. He did not feel good.

“Birdie?” He could speak. He was able to speak past the clanking of his teeth.

“I don’t know who that is,” came the soft reply. “It’s Matthew.”

Gilbert opened his eyes and tried to find him, but his head started spinning so he stopped. “I called for you,” he croaked. “Birdie. You’re…” A huge shiver overtook him, rendering him speechless for a moment. “Nickname. Birdie.”

Things were coming back to him. His skin was completely bare, and he could not tell if he had on his undergarments or not. The warm mass behind him was large, and it should not be described as fuzzy. It was furry. There was a gust of hot breath against his cheek. Was he laying on Kuma? He groaned when he turned his head to the side. Matthew came into view. The beta was kneeling entirely on his right knee and his hands were moving over Gilbert’s bare chest. There was a concentrated look on his face as he did whatever it was he was doing.

“What are you… doing?” Gilbert was not sure why it was such an effort to speak.

“I’m warming you up,” Matthew explained. His voice was steady. Calm. If he was calm, Gilbert would be calm. “Your body went into shock and I’m trying to get it working normally again. I had to remove your clothes because they were drenched, there was no way you were going to warm up in them. Kuma’s trying to help, too.”

Shock? How did his body go into shock?

He must have voiced the question because Matthew answered. “I found you floating on a piece of ice in a lake. I have no idea how long you were there, but your lips were blue. White bears can swim in the coldest of waters to hunt, no matter how icy it is; it’s how Kuma was able to rescue you. We were able to find a cave not far from the lake, and that’s where we are now. I used a spell to start a fire, too. See? It’s right beside you. I wanted to make more, but it’s a very strong spell which means I can only make one a day.”

He looked over at it. Well. Magic explained how the fire was so damn big.

“Magic is taxing.” Matthew was still talking. “For me especially because I was not born a witch. Witches have blue blood, but I have red. I have to give my blood for spells, but my mother doesn’t. Witches with blue blood don’t have to give their blood. That’s why I’m always so tired after I do a spell. Real witches don’t have that problem. They can do anything.” His hands moved faster, and his voice grew breathless. Maybe he sniffled too. “I focus more on the herbal side of things, like charms and stuff like that since the other stuff drains me. I don’t mind, I’m blessed enough to be able to do something like that.” Something wet hit Gilbert’s arm. “Really, really blessed.”

Was Matthew crying? Gilbert tried to narrow his eyes but that shot pain right into his head. He was still so _cold_,and everything in his body _ached_ but Matthew was crying. His scent was no longer sweet like maples, but like dried leaves. Like the dried leaves they rolled in a week ago to wipe their scent away. Is that what Matthew smelled like when he was sad? Why was he so sad anyway?

“Why,” Gilbert whispered past chattering teeth. “Are you crying?”

He could just barely hear what sounded like a gulp, and then a hitch of breath. Matthew’s voice sounded nasally when he replied. “I’m not.”

“Gods.” If he could roll his eyes right now, he would. “Even I can tell you’re lying and I can barely think.” When Matthew did not reply, a trickle of worry went through him. From what he could gather, it seemed like they were both alive. There was no reason to cry, right? “Are you sad because you thought Gawain was dead?”

_“No.”_ The level of ferocity in his voice startled Gilbert. Matthew’s hands worked harder, faster, as he kneaded his skin together. “I was- I am sad because I thought _Gilbert_ was dead.” 

Oh. Gilbert should have known. Matthew was a good person. He very clearly cared for other people and animals of all kind. Whatever judgements he had made on the beta before- selfish, weird, naïve, stupid- were in the past. Well, maybe he still thought Matthew was weird and naïve, but selfish? Obviously not. He was not upset that his little quest was almost thrown into chaos, but that someone he possibly considered to be a friend had almost died.

“Birdie.” Gilbert looked up at him, trying to find his eyes. The violet orbs were obscured by flickering shadows, but the fire was reflecting against his cheeks from the tears streaming down them. “Can you hold me?”

Matthew hiccupped and moved his hands to Gilbert’s arms. “I’m not Birdie.”

“Yes, you are. That’s your new nickname, Matthew.”

Those hands, larger than he assumed they would be, moved away from him. He felt raw and exposed now that they were gone, despite being almost completely naked. Matthew leaned over to grab the folded up blanket and his cloak. He stretched both of them out and laid them over Gilbert, tucking them under his feet and shoulders. Then Matthew carefully laid down beside him. The fire was behind him, casting a glow around him. Gilbert could finally see his eyes.

“Why do you want me to hold you?” he asked softly.

Because he wanted to comfort him. His alpha instincts were gently nudging him to help those that could not help themselves… wait, were those alpha instincts? Maybe he just wanted to comfort his friend. “I’m cold. Human contact is rumored to warm cold people up.”

A sound that was a cross between a sob and a laugh came from Matthew as Kuma leant down and gently nuzzled Gilbert’s cheek. His nose was warm. “Even now you’re still an ass.”

He laid on his back and took Gilbert in his arms, letting him rest on his chest. Perhaps other alphas would balk at the idea of laying in the arms of a beta, of letting one hold them tenderly, and run their arms over them. Perhaps they would scoff and claim such positions were meant for alphas and omegas, or betas and betas, but Gilbert didn’t care. How could he? Matthew’s heartbeat was a steady drum against his ear, and it gave him something to concentrate on as shivers still racked his body. And Matthew was so warm. He never knew some could be as warm as the beta beneath him. It was soothing. It was such a new sensation, to have someone run their hands over him, down his back, across his arms. Even though Matthew was only doing this to keep him warm, he could pretend, if only for the time being, he was loved.

Kuma curled around the two of them so they were caged between the fire and him. He rested his chin against Gilbert’s thighs, his hot breath hitting his concealed toes. That, too, was warm and comforting. Gilbert closed his eyes and allowed himself to just gather up the warmth.

In his head, he saw a flash of amber eyes. Then blue. He remembered bits and pieces of what happened after he fell into the ice: the despair, the panic, and then he was trapped in the past. Matthew said they found him on a piece of ice, but he did not remember the climb onto one. He did not remember anything except the past, the turmoil and guilt in his heart and mind. The reason why he drank himself under the table whenever he could, the reason for his tremors and shakes, and the reason he only slept for five hours, why he laid awake just staring at things. It all had to do with this guilt. He had no idea what to do with any of it.

“Gil?” Matthew’s voice was muffled by his white hair. “Does something hurt?”

Why would he ask such a stupid question? He was about to say just that, but then he felt the dampness on his cheeks, the stinging in his eyes. He was crying. Dear gods, he was fucking crying. He decided it was okay since he just had a near death experience.

“No, nothing hurts.” He tried to take in a few gasps of air, but his breath stuttered with each inhale. “I’m just, just thinking about…” Matthew’s hands quickened their rabid movement against his arms. It was comforting and warm, but he still felt so cold. Kuma shifted closer and more warmth was fed to him. “I nearly died in water before, in the mountains. After Ludwig died.”

In broken sentences, Gilbert tried to explain to Matthew what happened. There was prey, and he had been so adamant about finding food for himself and Feliciano that he was not careful enough while crossing that rushing stream. He fell and hit his head against one of the stones, and could do nothing but struggle to stay afloat as he was swept far away, down the mountain and away from Feliciano. The pain in his head never subsided until he finally made it out of that prisoning water, but it only went away because he fell unconscious. Even now he has no idea how long he laid there, baking in the weak mountainous sun. When he awoke, he climbed back up to the spot he left Feli at. As he spoke now, he choked on a sob, with tears pooling on his chest and snot clogging his nose. It was so painful to remember. He tried to explain how there was golden blood mixed with red blood, the blood of a predator. The scent of a predator was strong, perhaps a mountain lion, or a snow leopard that had wandered down from Glaceria. Whatever it was, it had done the unthinkable.

He could not remember what happened after that, the only thing he could recall was the unimaginable pain his body was in. He did not know why. He only remembered waking up in a small clearing within a mountain. He wandered into a mining town at the base of a mountain, bought room for the night in an inn, washed himself until his body was red, and then went to the tavern and drank until he could no more, and then he started the nastiest bar fight he could. He had just lost his family, it was a fine excuse. By the time he was finished telling the story, his throat was raw and his teeth no longer chattered. And piece by piece, his body grew warmer. The inescapable cold that clung to him was thawing, giving way to fresh skin. He pressed as close as he could to Matthew, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his strong arms hold him close. He just needed someone to listen to him. For once, he wanted someone to hear him.

“That’s why I told you I will only go as far as Orlon.” Gilbert closed his eyes as a few final tears fell from them. “Feli’s brother and his brother’s mate live there. How am I supposed to look at them while I know I’m to blame for their little brother’s death? They wouldn’t even know who I am, I never met them. But I would know, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

Matthew’s voice shook as he murmured, “I get it, Gil. You don’t need to explain yourself.”

There were small sniffles coming from the beta, quiet enough that it took Gilbert a moment to hear them. Matthew was still crying, but this time he was crying over his story. He did not say he was sorry, he did not try to give any sort of comforting words, and for that Gilbert was thankful. He would not be able to handle them.

They were quiet after that, both laying in the comfort of the fire with their huge dire bear companion resting beside them. Gilbert could feel his heartbeat becoming steady, a weird sensation since he was not even aware it had been beating erratically. His eyes were heavy from crying, but he was afraid to close them.

“Birdie,” he murmured, tasting the name on his tongue. Yeah, it sounded good. “I don’t want to stop traveling with you.”

There was a pause as his words hung in the air. Matthew’s voice was a bit breathless as he said, “I’m pretty sure you’re not thinking straight.”

“I had it in my head before this shit happened.” He blinked up at the ceiling of the cave. Just slabs of rock. “What else am I supposed to do? My house, as shitty as it was, is gone. My shop is gone too, not that I had been making anything recently. The village I was born in is gone, and so is the village I lived in with Ludwig and Feli. I have nowhere.”

“But what about the Orlon Forest?”

He could not go inside. He could not bear the thought of meeting the Fae known as Lovino and Antonio. “I’ll stay outside, I’ll hang around with Kuma or something. We’ll have ourselves a drink.”

Thankfully, that got Matthew to laugh, or at least give a small snort of amusement. “I have one condition. If you’re going to keep traveling with me, you have to promise me you will never do something as stupid as this again. You aren’t going to run away and sacrifice yourself, we’re going to think of something together. Promise me, Gilbert.”

“Sure, I promise, Birdie.” He smiled a bit at the nickname once more. “How do you like your new name?”

Matthew laughed softly. “I don’t really understand it, but there are quite a few things about you that I don’t understand.” Those hands finally ceased their movement, leaving him just a bit colder. “Are you tired?”

“Very.”

“How do you feel?”

“Okay. You’re warming me up.”

There was a smile against the top of his head, he could feel it. “Sleep, Gil. I’ll have to wake you every hour, just to be sure, so sleep while you can.”

Reassured by his words, Gilbert allowed himself to close his eyes. Now that it was quiet, he was able to feel just how exhausted his body was. He did not know how late it was, he did not know the whereabouts of the soldier in black, but Matthew wasn’t panicking. It must be okay. Right as he drifted off, six words floated into his mind.

_Follow Merlin, Gawain the White Wolf._

Yeah, he was doing just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this huge chapter is finally done. Thank you to everyone who has left a comment, reading them is always the highlight of my day :)
> 
> -Everything Matthew said about Sir Gawain is true. Sometimes it can be tricky working your way through the Arthurian canon because there are so many damn versions out there. For example, in some retelling's, Gawain is Arthur's nephew, but in others he is not. He was a very chivalrous knight, some even argue more so than Lancelot since, you know, Gawain didn't have an affair with a married woman that just so happened to be the wife of his best friend. The most famous story including Gawain is 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' (published anonymously in the 1300s) , which may or may not make an appearance in the future of this fic! I do suggest reading it if you're interested, it's quite the story -The few things said about Galehaut and Elain are also true. Galehaut was the son of a giantess that was known as the "king without a crown". He was a huge man with a huge army but since he was hardly in _Le Morte d'Arthur_ so a lot of people don't know about him. Galehaut as a character in this fic won't show up in part 2, and you just might be surprised by who they are. -Finally, there were two notable characters named Elaine in different Arthur myths. Elaine of Astolat died from a broken heart because Lancelot did not love her, and Elaine of Corbenic was the mother to Sir Galahad by Lancelot. Funnily enough, Lancelot's biological mother was a queen named Elaine. The guy had a lot of Elaine's in his life.


	6. Found in Orlon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was surprisingly challenging to write, and I'm actually not too thrilled with it, but after rewriting it 3 different times, I have decided that this is the best it can be. I'm also in a rush to finish it because I will be very busy for the next 3 or so days and I really wanted to get it out before the New Year.
> 
> When writing omegaverse, I like to refer to alphas (male or female) as fathers, uncles, and grandfathers, and omegas (male or female) as mothers, aunts, and grandmothers. Terms like "brother/sister", "niece/nephew", etc. stay the same regardless if someone is an alpha or omega; they are still based on gender, not on typing :).
> 
> The Netherlands: Govert Maes
> 
> Belgium: Manon Maes
> 
> Ancient Iberia: Catalina Fernandez Carriedo
> 
> Germania: Aldrich Beilschmidt (I realize I never specified this. Oops)

_We await you, O Fair One. We ask you to guide us in our time of need, for we are blinded by the darkness surrounding the forests we call home._

_Destined to be, so wondrous and kind, so beautiful and strong, you are to save us from this plight. We ask, we beg of you, save us. Listen to our cries, follow them. Help us, Our Gracious Faerie Queen._

_Alone are we now, drifting upon the wind with empty stomachs and hearts crafted of stone. Fires cannot be stoked within our cold homes, nor can the water quench our old thirst. Must we float through this forest of fog? Never before have we been lost in such a place, but never before have we been without one born of the Sun and her brother the Moon._

_There is nothing to offer you, not crown or throne, just our tears of salt and bloodied throats._

_Your crown of antlers has been destroyed, your throne of oak burnt to ash. Your palace of white has been taken by a man who controls creatures not of this world. We have nothing, but still we fall to our knees and offer ourselves to Queen Mab Herself, for her very last words within this realm were this:_

_“In your hour of need, a Faerie Queen sharing my blood of the Sun and the Moon will come forward and sit on my throne. They will be found by a Wayward Faerie with eyes of burning amber, who hides inside a forest of oak and ash, who must travel far and wide in order to find what was never truly lost. Fair and beautiful will thy Queen be, with a long line of honed magic flowing in their veins. Like a flower, they will bloom, and be one part of the half that shall restore peace to this land. Your Spring Queen will come in time, together with the King of Flame. Fall to your knees as your Queen walks through the streets of Soliac as they make their way to the darkness that will hold you, but do not weep. Do not fear. The Faerie Queen will lay down their life to set you free.”_

_Please, O Kind and Merciful One. Stand in front of your armies of Fae, raise your banner of green and gold, and look down at the tyrant king before you. End him, and free us of this suffering._

_We beg of you, Faerie Queen, find your way to us._

.

.

.

The moon was a sliver in the black sky, barely visible through the branches above that swayed in the gentle wind. Midnight was nigh, the dead of the night almost upon the sleeping hamlet nestled deep inside the forest of oak and ash, but while many Faeries slept within huts of made of wood, a group of five were wide awake and sitting around a blazing fire in a hut with a circle in the ceiling. The claw of the moon shone down, almost directly upon the opening as the small trail of smoke from the fire climbed up and out of the hut and into the world beyond.

Three omegas and two alphas sat around the fire, wearing different emotions on their faces. It was silent inside the hut, aside from the fire crackling softly around its home of surrounding stones on the dirt floor. The silence was suffocating. There was much to say before tomorrow morning, when they would have to break the news to the rest of their kind.

An alpha with eyes as green as emerald leaves looked across the flame to the other alpha and a female omega. “You’re sure you weren’t mistaken?”

The other alpha rested his arms on top of slender knees, the flames making shadows dance over his face, hiding a long scar above an eyebrow. “Of course I’m sure. One is a shapeshifter, or at least part shifter, and the other has a staff that smells of Fae.” As he spoke, mist came from his mouth. It was not from the cold, it came from within him. “If they wake at dawn, they will be in our forest long before sun-high.”

Seated next to the brilliant eyed alpha, a male omega hissed softly. “What could a rag-tag duo such as them want with us?”

The younger of the two omega females narrowed eyes that were usually filled with a lust for blood. “The possibilities are endless, but I’m curious about that staff. It was decorated with runes of the Old Language, something I didn’t think humans knew how to read! And the boy holding it is human; his blood smells as bland as cattle.”

The alpha at her side scoffed, his deep voice pinched with anger. “The shapeshifter had two hunting daggers at his hips and a longbow at his back, but they weren’t carrying any sort of traps like others that have wandered inside. The daggers were sheathed, but it’s safe to assume they are made from steel, but we saw no pieces of extra iron or silver. I don’t believe they have any malicious intent.”

Green eyes flashed in thought as the alpha tilted his head to the side. Curly brown hair drifted into those bright eyes, obscuring them. “Perhaps they aren’t even aware we are inside the forest.”

“Don’t say such naïve things,” the male omega growled. “Those bastards probably know exactly who is hiding in the Orlon Forest!”

“I agree.” The female omega lifted her chin and stared at the green eyed alpha across from her and the pale eyed one beside her. “Every time someone wanders into this forest, they have ill intent. And need I remind you one of them is a shapeshifter, the mortal enemy of the Fae? Who cares if he didn’t smell like a full one, he still has the blood of one in his veins.”

“Not every shapeshifter is bad,” the green eyed alpha pointed out. “You know that, Manon.”

The one known as Manon stared at him for a moment longer before rolling her eyes and looking away, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. “Not every shifter was raised by Faeries, Antonio.”

The alpha beside Manon looked at the fifth Faerie within the hut, an omega female with golden-brown skin and eyes just as radiant as Antonio’s. Her dark brown hair spilled over bare shoulders, and curled right below her covered breasts. A circlet of gold sat upon her head, a drop of the metal resting against the very top of her forehead, reflecting in the bright light of the fire. Her clothing was made for the summer, not for the bitter and inescapable winter, but she was a Sun Faerie, one of the last of its kind. Cold winds and icy rain did not bother her.

“What do you think of this, Catalina?” the alpha asked. “What should we do?”

The female called Catalina looked up from the flame and met the gaze of each Fae in the hut, catching the emotions swirling inside them. She did not like the fear and uncertainty in their eyes. These were four of the six members of her council, she did not like them to harbor such negative emotions, but she supposed it was normal. These times were dangerous for any Faerie, especially those living inside of Avalon. She liked to believe they were needed here, but every day that passed, every day that an intruder walked in and tried to lay traps for the mythical creatures inside, a part of her immortal soul dwindled and left her praying to her goddess, begging for a light that seemed to get smaller as the months passed. It made sense that even her council was afraid of these unknown threats.

“I cannot tell you why a human is walking around with a staff smelling of Faerie magic,” she said in a thick Raetian accent. “It is most peculiar. I believe we should do what we always do when we find trespassers in the forest.” Her face, one that used to always wear a smile as bright as the sun, was hard as she looked at the scarred alpha and Manon. “Govert, Manon. As my spies, I will charge you with capturing them if they come into the Orlon, but do not kill them. Questions must be asked first.”

Govert and Manon dipped their head to the leader of their small village. The omega at Antonio’s side leaned closer, his hazel eyes narrowed into slits. “I don’t think it should matter if they come into our forest or not. They’re too suspicious!”

Catalina shook her head. “Lovino, you are much too smart to say something like that.” Lovino scoffed and looked off to the side. “If we attack those who are not intruding, things could get messy. Even more rumors may spread, and then what? We will be found.” She looked at the male omega for a moment longer, her green eyes softening into that of a mother’s. Lovino was not her son, but she practically raised him, so long ago when he was just a young boy, and now he was her son’s mate. There was a spot in her heart reserved for the feisty omega. She leaned over Antonio and placed a hand on Lovino’s. “I know why you are worried, my child. Any news of a shapeshifter in this part of Avalon, so close to us, is troublesome. But your family is safe here. You have my word.”

Lovino did not look at her, he did not even bat an eye, but he flipped his hand over to squeeze hers. When Antonio touched his arm in comfort, Catalina drew her hand away and looked at the open ceiling. The stars glittered above, the claw-shaped moon now directly over them. The moon, the stars, the sun, and her council members were the only ones who could enter this hut, and look at the treasures hiding inside. The two tapestries taken from a burning Raetia, beautiful instruments of music awaiting to be played by Faeries, and the enigmatic book titled _Fabula_, filled with blank, black pages. She could feel its power, any being with any sort of magic dancing in their veins could feel the great, mystical power radiating from it. It was kept secret by all but her council and the elements of the earth. She looked over at the book now, wrapped in a red cloth on one of the shelves in the dark corner of the hut.

“A boy with a staff coated in Faerie magic,” she murmured to herself. “Is he friend or foe? Did he steal it, or was it gifted to him?”

Antonio, Lovino, Govert, and Manon silently watched her, and listened to her musings as her eyes stayed on the strange book on the shelf. They had not been dismissed yet, meaning Catalina still had things she wanted to discuss. She was not a Faerie queen, but she was the leader of their village, and more than that, she was the leader of this Faerie rebellion. The reason they were living in Avalon, a kingdom that wants them dead, had to do with that very rebellion. And they were the faces of it.

Catalina turned back to her council, and lifted her chin. “Times are uncertain, indeed. But remember what Queen Mab said before she left this realm for the next.” She looked to the sky, where the stars danced above, as if the first Faerie Queen to have lived were looking down on them now. “A Faerie Queen sharing her blood will come in our time of need, and they will be found by a wayward Fae. Believe in Her Majesty Queen Mab, and believe in her final words.” 

Antonio looked to Lovino and took his hand, and Lovino laced their fingers together. Manon and Govert straightened their spines and the siblings looked to the sky. Catalina’s gaze never wavered from the sparkling stars that looked so much like the little faeries that used to fly through Raetia’s forest.

“Believe in the next Faerie Queen.”

Crouched low outside of the hut so his shadow would not be painted on the walls, a small boy listened to the five Fae speak. He didn’t care for the old and dead Queen Mab, nor did he think twice about the human with a staff of Faerie magic. He cared about the human’s companion. He slowly backed away, making sure he was quiet enough to sneak past sharp Fae ears.

When he was far enough away from that hut, he straightened and placed a hand over his mouth. A _shapeshifter_ was close to their village. With a body tingling in excitement, the young boy made his way back to his little cottage, his mind spinning. He wanted to meet this shapeshifter, he _had to_. The punishment that would await him when he returned would be worth it!

He pressed his hands against the door to the cottage, but hesitated before opening it. He hated shapeshifters, he hated them with every fiber in his small body. In his excitement of learning one was so close he had forgotten all about his feelings. Should he even try to meet one? He bowed his head. If others in the village knew he had been so happy just seconds ago to find an enemy, he would be scorned.

_“Don’t listen to what others say, and do not conform just because you are different. Be proud. You are one of a kind; never bow your head in shame.”_

Those familiar words rang through him and he lifted his head. He smiled, showing a mouth full of fangs. That’s right, he wasn’t going to listen to what others said to him. He pushed open his door, and while his actions were nearly silent, his heart was thumping as loud as thunder.

Tomorrow morning, he was going to meet a shapeshifter for the first time.

.

“I almost can’t believe we’re here,” Matthew murmured softly as he and Gilbert stood in front of the first few trees acting as the entrance to the Orlon Forest. He placed a hand on one of the dormant ash trees, trying to feel any sort of magic from it, but there was none. “For three months I’ve been searching for this place.”

“It is way too early in the morning for sentimental crap like that,” Gilbert yawned from Matthew’s side. He kept away from the tree of ash and stared at the barren oak beside it instead. “Besides, just cause you found the forest doesn’t mean anything.”

Matthew didn’t even try to hide his displeasure from that comment. He glared at Gilbert. “Do you always have to ruin the mood?”

“Tis one of my many talents.” Unsurprisingly, he flashed Matthew a smirk filled with mirth and playfulness. It fled rather quickly, replaced by a more serious expression. He crossed his arms, putting his weight to one hip. “But I’m being serious. We made it to the forest, but you don’t have the item you’re searching for. You might not even get out alive.”

It was strange to hear Gilbert with such a solemn voice. He had been rather chipper ever since the night they had laid together in that cave after his fall in that ice-cold hell. Their topics had been light, laughter and banter bouncing back and forth between them while things like death had been minimal. Matthew studied Gilbert quietly, waiting for the alpha to elaborate.

“You’re only human,” Gilbert continued in a lower voice. “And a beta, so I’m not surprised you can’t feel it, but there’s something in that forest. It’s bad, my instincts are going berserk.”

Despite himself, a shiver went down Matthew’s spine, and his gaze rested on the forest once again. The early morning sun was hidden behind pale clouds, allowing minimal light to shine through the naked branches. Not a single bird sang; the only source of noise came from the trees groaning in the wind. It did look ominous the longer Matthew stared into the gaping mouth of the forest, and if Gilbert’s instincts were correct, then there could be something very dangerous in that canopy of trees. Maybe they shouldn’t have left Kuma at their camp from last night.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Matthew felt silly. He wasn’t going to get scared now when he was so close to the _Fabula_! “There are Fae hiding inside,” he started, keeping his eyes on the forest. “And their nature is not as friendly as some people realize. They are known for their trickery and strange behavior, so we shouldn’t find it off-putting that your instincts are telling you to beware.”

Gilbert stuffed his hands into his pocket and tilted his head back, and Matthew followed his gaze. Above them, three crows ascended to the sky from one of the oak trees, their fluttering wings adding to the shifted atmosphere. “Maybe.”

Matthew hesitated. “You could… always come with me.” It was something he had been thinking about since last night, and as much as he would hate to admit it, he wouldn’t mind a companion trekking through the dark wood with him.

But Gilbert shook his head. “I can’t. Even if Feli’s family wasn’t living here, there are way too many ash trees.” He looked at one of the skinny trees, almost dwarfed by the oak beside it. “Ash dulls the abilities of shapeshifters, and renders their shifting powers useless. Even though I can’t shift, my sense of sight and smell dwindle. Ash is a shapeshifters greatest weakness, even for someone like me.”

Matthew remembered when he was looking into the past, all of the members in Gilbert’s village had been chained inside wagons but none of them had shifted. The metal had been infused with ash then.

“That’s right,” he breathed. “My mother taught me that a while ago. She told me Fae used to wrap ash around their weapons long ago when they fought shapeshifters.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert shrugged. “They used ash against us, and we used iron and silver against them.”

The bloodthirsty wars against shapeshifter packs and Faerie tribes were infamous. The two species never seemed to get along, which Matthew always found to be strange. They seemed to be more alike than different, after all. He pushed the thoughts from his mind. “I guess it would look suspicious if a shapeshifter were prowling through the forest. I want to get on their good side after all.”

“You won’t have any problem doing that!” Gilbert shot him a grin, though he still wore a rather grim expression. “Your face is the pinnacle of innocence!”

His voice was light, but Matthew could tell he was worried. He had a feeling if he called the other out on it, he would be met with protest so he let it go. Some part of him warmed at the idea of Gilbert being concerned for his safety. He shoved that weird part of him into the dark corners of his mind.

“For once, I hope they judge me based on that.” Matthew rubbed his thumb against the runes of his staff and took a deep breath. The plan was simple- go into the Orlon Forest, wait around for a Faerie to find him, and carefully explain what he was looking for. Gilbert had told him the Fae were not stupid, they would not kill him before asking questions. Maybe it was foolish of him, but Matthew believed Gilbert’s words full-heartedly; he trusted the alpha more than he ever thought he would. “Okay. I need to get going.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert raised his arm. Matthew involuntarily tensed as he watched Gilbert’s hand make its way down to his shoulder, but right as it hovered over it, he put it back down and it fell limply to his side. “Be careful, Birdie.”

“Same to you, Gil.” Matthew smiled softly. It was still hard to believe he was here, about to head into the forest he had started looking for almost four months ago. But now he was here, and when he found the _Fabula_, Gilbert would be waiting for him and they would continue on together. “Remember, you don’t need to start worrying unless Kuma starts getting agitated since he can sense when I’m hurt.”

Gilbert patted the daggers at his hip. “And if that happens, I’m going in. Ash be damned!”

Gratitude filled Matthew’s chest. Gilbert was willing to shove aside personal attachments if he were in trouble. For some reason, he felt his cheeks warm. He brushed it off as excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. “I don’t know how long this is going to take me, but I will try to leave as soon as I can. Until then, stay where we camped last night.”

“I know, I know. We went over this last night.”

“Well, sometimes you have a hard time listening.”

A moment passed where the two shared a grin. Matthew’s own wavered just a bit as he looked into Gilbert’s red eyes. Not too long ago, they had been filled with such haunting emptiness that only someone who lost everything could obtain, but now there were sparks of warmth shining inside of them. And for the first time, Matthew could see flecks of blue in that crimson gaze.

Gilbert looked away, the movement abrupt and quite startling. “Alright. I’ll see you soon,” the alpha said, his grin bright and shiny.

Matthew took another deep breath and nodded. “Yes, you will.”

He headed into the Orlon Forest, the place where the Fae of Avalon and the _Fabula_ were apparently hiding. He did not look back as he continued on, even though he could feel Gilbert’s gaze on his back. He truly wished a friend were at his side, but Gilbert’s reasons for declining were obvious, and neither he nor Matthew knew how the Fae would react to a huge dire bear walking through their territory. It was better if he were alone.

The further he walked through the forest, the denser it became. If it were summertime, he could imagine how full it must feel inside. Sunlight would probably have a hard time piercing through the dark leaves, but right now it was winter and the weak sunlight was slowly pushing through the clouds above. Even so, the faint rays that filtered past the branches barely did anything for Matthew, and the shadows they created made him shudder. Maybe he shouldn’t have dismissed Gilbert’s instincts so quickly. There was definitely something off with this forest, even if it only had to do with the Faeries that dwelled further within it.

Adhan had taught him many things of the Fae folk during his childhood. It was nothing but a stereotype to assume them to be peaceful creatures who danced around fires and played flutes without a care in the world. In reality, they were beings of darkness. Their kind was ancient, and apparently came to be when old spirits of good and old spirits of evil had children together. As a result, their Faerie offspring had both good and evil qualities to them. With pointed ears and sharp canines, lithe bodies and slim legs, it was easy to tell them apart from any other species in Esmya.

He remembered when Adhan pulled out an old book on the Fae that included many drawings of the Fae folk. Some had the legs of goats, others had tree branches for arms, and a few even had tails. “They do not look like that anymore,” Adhan had said. “Before the last Faerie King passed, he put a powerful glamour on all the Fae living in Esmya that hid their flora and fauna characteristics so they wouldn’t be as easy to find by those hunting them. No one knows how long this curse will last; all of the Faeries that were born after the glamour was put in place have no idea what their true forms even look like.”

At the time, Matthew hadn’t thought much of it, thinking it was a smart and easy move on the Faerie King’s part. But as he grew older, he realized just how daunting it must be to look at your reflection and see parts of you missing. The Faerie with goat legs now had regular human legs, those with branches as arms had regular arms, and those with tails had nothing. Matthew couldn’t imagine waking up one morning to find one of his physical characteristics gone. It was too weird to even think about! As he grew older, he also realized that final decision the Faerie King made had probably been one of his hardest. To practically curse your own people just to protect them… Matthew felt a chill go through him. The last Faerie King of Raetia had truly been a selfless and wise ruler.

Matthew paused when he heard a branch snap. He blinked out of his thoughts and froze, waiting to see if a Fae were in the distance. Had one found him already? He stopped behind the nearest tree in order to hide himself. Patiently, he waited, but everything was quiet around him. After a couple more minutes of silence, he peered his head around the tree, and found a lone doe nibbling at the ground. That’s all it had been. If it had been something else, the doe would have fled in a panic.

_‘I need to be cautious,’_ Matthew thought to himself as he slipped from behind the tree and continued his way along. _‘I’m an intruder in this place, and I need to be on guard in case someone catches me.’_

It’s what he wanted, but he was making a pretty big gamble right now. Even though he trusted Gilbert’s belief, there was no way the alpha could know for sure if the Fae would strike hard enough to kill him. The likelihood of Matthew getting hurt right now was high, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. As long as he could read that book and figure out where the Once and Future King was hiding, someone else could finish his quest if he couldn’t. Surely… right?

_Be careful._

Matthew froze. That voice, it was the same one that had whispered the name _Gawain_ to him two weeks ago. But this time, the words were not filled with warmth. They were edged, like the first time they had spoken to him, back when he had the vision of King Arthur. Why was it warning him? Why was it _speaking to him?_ Suddenly, a faint fog began to appear in front of him, thick enough that it hid some of the trees from view. Matthew narrowed his eyes as he tried to look into the growing haze in front of him as his grip tightened around the staff. The fog had appeared unnaturally fast, almost like it had come from nowhere. Could Faeries manipulate things like that?

“Hello?” Matthew called without moving closer. “Is anyone there? I’m not here to hurt you; I’m a witch, I’m on your side.”

No one answered. The fog swirled closer to him, and it seemed to grow thicker as it moved. Matthew tensed as it creeped around him, obscuring everything around him. His heart leapt into his throat as he looked around. This was no natural fog. He tried to keep his composure, even as his head began spinning in a slight panic. He could not run from this.

He froze once again when he saw a figure standing in the fog a couple paces away from him. The fog seemed to curl around him, almost like it was a snake. They had spiky light brown hair and pointed ears. It was a male Fae. He was dressed in a long dark brown jacket and brown pants, no weapon in sight. A brown scarf was wrapped around his mouth, and it seemed to trail out from behind him, making him look much more ominous than Matthew thought possible. He forced himself to swallow the lump of fear in his throat.

“I-I’m not you’re enemy. I was hoping to find you, actually. I-I’m a…” He trailed off when the male pulled the scarf from his mouth down to his chin and exhaled. Fog was coming from his mouth. He had created this heavy fog. “…witch.”

Another figure appeared through the thick fog and stood next to the male. This one was female, and much smaller. Her movements were filled with feline grace as she prowled closer, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing with every step she took. Unlike the other Fae, this one carried a weapon in her hand. It looked like a small dagger. She smiled at Matthew, but he did not feel comforted at all, not with those bright green eyes gleaming in the fog.

“I wouldn’t waste your breath,” she purred. She pulled one of her sleeves up, revealing a pale arm. Matthew’s eyes widened as she sliced her arm open with the dagger. She spread the wound open with the blade, and golden blood quickly began to drip onto the dirt. “We aren’t the ones you need to plead to.”

Something pink appeared from her open wound, and it wafted into the fog, which spun unnaturally so, until it seemed like a clear trail was heading right for Matthew. More and more came from her, and the scent in the air shifted from the regular smells of a forest into something sweeter, like flowers. It was alluring. As if he were in a trance, he inhaled the pink fog racing toward him, and then his throat tightened. Matthew’s eyes widened.

Poison. _There had been poison in her veins._

He dropped his staff as he gripped his shirt. He couldn’t breathe, oh gods, he couldn’t breathe. His head began to spin and the world around him darkened as he gasped for breath, but not a single drop of air entered his lungs. Panic clouded his mind as he fell to the ground with a heaving chest. His vision was getting blurry. The whole point of him wandering inside was to get captured, but this was- oh gods this was too much.

The last thing he heard before the world slipped from around him came from his own head, and they were being whispered by the one who had just warned him to be careful. _I will keep you safe._

.

“Damn, I’m bored.”

Obviously, Gilbert hadn’t thought about what he was to do while Matthew went off into the Orlon Forest. He had no supplies to draw like he did sometimes, nor had he any tools to build any sort of weapon with. Simply put, he had nothing to do which is why he was wandering through the little canopy of trees he and Matthew had slept in last night.

He stopped in front of a rather small tree with low hanging branches and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. The sun was slowly climbing underneath the clouds, indicating it was getting closer to mid-morning. Matthew left about an hour ago, and already Gilbert was worried about him. It was so stupid. He felt like a mother omega fretting over a lost child.

“Then again, I guess I’ve always had some motherly instincts in me.” Gilbert felt weird after the sentence left him. He used to talk to himself all the time, but ever since Matthew arrived in his life, he hadn’t needed to do that. Only an hour alone and he was reverting back to old ways.

But he wasn’t wrong, Ludwig used to constantly poke fun at him for acting “maternal” in situations. He couldn’t help it. After the death of their father, it had been Gilbert’s job to take care of his little brother. He stopped gazing at the sky as unwanted memories assaulted him. Now was not the time to think about the bad moments of his life, the ones where he had scrambled around to find food, to grab shelter and money wherever they could, until they finally found a little village to call home after living for years on the streets in Avalon.

His hand found the iron cross at his neck, a symbol of the tribe he was born in. He always wore it with pride, even though that tribe had been destroyed before Ludwig had even been born. Still, the Teuton Tribe ran through his veins, the home of the three pillars of the wolf: honor, strength, and freedom. He smiled to himself as his calloused fingers ran over the bumpy silver outline, and then found the smooth black surface in the middle. No one remembered the Teuton Tribe, but he did, and he would teach its history to anyone willing to listen.

An idea sparked in Gilbert’s mind, one that would chase away his ineffable boredom for a little while. He pulled an arrow from its quiver and turned to the small tree before him. He got to work scrapping past the bark and carving out his creation. Before long, an outline of an iron cross was staring back at him. He was far from finished, it was just the outline after all, but it still looked pretty cool. And to Gilbert, it meant that he was here. The Teuton Tribe might be gone, turned to ash by Avalon, but someone still remembered it. Though the tribe would shame him for letting his family down, he still remembered it and he still believed in it.

“I don’t think that tree appreciates you defiling it.”

A small shriek left Gilbert, and he nearly tripped over his own two feet as he turned around. He grabbed his shirt as his heart pounded against his chest, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to find the source of that very close voice. He didn’t have to look for long.

There was a boy just inches away from him, hanging upside down from one of the lower branches. Gilbert wasn’t too sure whether to concentrate on the long spear clutched in the boy’s hand or the fact that this child had snuck up on him so skillfully.

“I… what?”

It looked like the boy tilted his head to the side, though it was rather hard to tell from his upside down position. “You aren’t supposed to do that to trees. Even babies know that! I’m surprised someone as old as you is doing something like that.”

Gilbert blinked slowly. “_Old_?”

“Damn. I really thought you would be this wise shapeshifter, too. Oh, well. I guess the village doesn’t have anything to worry about.” The boy started to swing back-and-forth. “And I guess this means I’ve got to drag you back to the village too. Someone as stupid as you shouldn’t be walking around, it’s dangerous!”

The boy’s words slowly sank into Gilbert. Never mind the half-assed threat, this boy had known him to be a shapeshifter. He had probably gotten that by his scent, but if this kid knew what a shapeshifter smelled like… well, that would be strange. They were in the middle of bum fuck Avalon, shapeshifters didn’t just frolic around the forests like they used to. Gilbert narrowed his eyes and creeped away from his artwork. His initial startling fear was gone, replaced by suspicion and curiosity.

“How do you know what a shapeshifter smells like, boy?”

“Is it weird that I know?” With a skill that looked far too easy for someone his age, the boy swung himself up right so he was sitting on the branch. He stood up, his face half covered by long and messy golden-blond hair. He walked across the branch, not even looking down. “Maybe I live in a big tribe of shapeshifters and I know what they all look like! Or maybe, I’m just smart.”

Gilbert shook his head in bewilderment as he watched the boy reach for another branch and climb onto it. “Uh, yeah. I don’t think that’s right. Shifters don’t look like anything, you catch them by their scent. Now can you tell me what a kid like you is doing out in the middle of nowhere? Are you lost?”

“Ha! Do I look like I’m lost?!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know the answer to that when you’re not even on the ground?”

Now on an even higher branch, the boy peered down at him through narrowed eyes. He looked like a feral wild boy with his messy hair and dirt smeared face. If Gilbert had to guess, he would say this boy is an alpha, or a very confused omega. “Well, I’m not lost! Fae never get lost in the forest.”

The brat was delusional. While he was swinging from the branch, his ears had been exposed and they had not been pointed. They were as round as Gilbert’s own. He raised an eyebrow. “That’s well and good, but I don’t think you’re Fae. You look like the furthest thing from it.”

In the silence of the small woodland they were in, Gilbert could hear a sharp, almost painful, intake of breath from above. He flinched. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. The boy was obviously weird, and if he wanted to believe in some stupid fantasy, why should Gilbert stop him? Kids were always spouting nonsense. Hell, in his old mountain village, all of the kids loved him because he played along with their games! He should try to be a bit gentler. It didn’t matter if they were in the middle of nowhere, he shouldn’t be dismissive of a child.

Before Gilbert could give an apology, the boy spoke from his branch. “Yeah, and what do you know, you infertile pathetic excuse for an alpha?”

Gilbert had to pause to let the words sink in. They sounded hesitant, like the boy wasn’t familiar with them, but there was still venom behind the sentence. Those were fighting words, alphas probably got into arguments for less, but it was also extremely… comical. To hear a child say something so crude was hilarious, and Gilbert could not help the laughter that exploded from him. He put a hand against the tree as he bent over, gasping and coughing from the force of his laugh. It was the hardest he had ever laughed in a long time.

“Damn, kid! That was great, gods. Where did you learn to say something like that?”

There was some rustling from above, followed by the shaking of a branch as the boy jumped onto a lower one. His spear was still in his hand as he crouched to his knees, and looked past his head of mangled hair to meet Gilbert’s eyes. From this smaller distance, Gilbert could see the boy’s eyes were blue. “My aunt said it to someone a few days ago. I don’t really get it, but it sounds mean.”

Ah, that explained it. Gilbert let one more chuckle escape him. “I wouldn’t go around repeating it. You could really piss off an alpha by saying that.”

The boy tilted his head to the side. “But not you?”

Gilbert smirked. “Nah. I have a wonderful sense of humor.”

“Oh.” The boy twirled his spear around so the tip was pointing at the sky. “Does that mean you’re actually infertile, whatever that means?”

_‘Don’t you dare yell at some stupid kid. Are you really going to stoop that low? No, you’re not. You’re better than that.’_ The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Matthew’s. He took a deep, calming breath.

“No, that is not what I meant at all.” Gilbert crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Look, why don’t you come down from the tree so we can talk like real, civilized alphas. I still have no clue what you’re doing out here.”

The boy hesitated, and Gilbert didn’t blame him. In this situation, he would be seen as the bad guy, the possible predator. He offered the kid a smile to seem approachable, but the boy scrunched his face up in response. Standing from his crouched position, the boy pointed his spear at Gilbert. “Step back, and keep your hands behind your back. If you try to hurt me, I have a secret weapon.”

Gilbert let his fake smile drop as he rolled his eyes. “I have more important things to do than hurt children.”

The boy growled. “You’re weird.” That was rich coming from him. The boy descended from the tree with ease, jumping to the ground without a sound. He was dressed in dark brown tights, tucked into brown boots with fur popping up around the tops of them. His jacket was black, but seemed to be sleeveless. He wore a burgundy long sleeve shirt underneath it, along with black gloves. And then Gilbert saw it, the pendant resting against his chest. To an untrained eye, it just looked like a bunch of weird loops, but to Gilbert, he saw the trinity knot of the Fae. It stood for loyalty and family, to show the meaning of life and eternity, that they are interconnected. Feliciano always wore one, though he kept it tucked under his shirt. It was a powerful symbol of the Faerie folk.

The boy brushed his hair from his face, rubbing some of the dirt off as he did so. He looked up at Gilbert, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Gilbert felt his heart stop. “Okay. Let’s talk like _civilized_ alphas, even though I’m not the one who was scratching marks on a tree.”

Gilbert didn’t quite hear him. Instead, he was focused on the boy’s face. His expression was harsh, bordering on angry. His eyes looked like they had been cut in a way that made them look naturally narrowed instead of round. He couldn’t stop himself as he reached out and pushed more of the boy’s hair from his face, slicking it back. He inhaled sharply. This boy looked strikingly similar to… Ludwig. His face was tanner, and he didn’t look as stoic, but Ludwig was there. Was he imagining it? There was no explanation for how some strange, random boy such as this looked like his little brother.

Gilbert was so focused on his thoughts that he did not notice the boy picking up his foot until he slammed it directly into Gilbert’s shin. Gilbert let go of the boy in order to hold his now bruised leg. “By the gods, you little runt! What the hell?!”

“I told you to keep your hands behind your back, not touch my hair!”

“Yeah, the message has been received!” Maybe that had all been in Gilbert’s mind. Ludwig was never this violent as a child. He was always clinging to Gilbert’s leg, he would never talk to strangers with such a fiery tongue like this boy. Gilbert straightened, even though his shin still throbbed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You just… You look a lot like someone I knew.”

The boy stuck out his tongue. “Well I would remember meeting some old weirdo like you.”

Gilbert chuckled softly, forcing the thoughts of Ludwig from his mind. It was probably just a coincidence. That’s all it could be. He sat down on the hard ground beneath him and folded his hands in his lap. The boy watched him carefully, just like an animal. “Why don’t we start over? Hello, wild boy. My name is Gilbert, eldest son of Aldrich. And you are?”

The boy stared at him like he had just grown an extra head, but after a terse moment, the boy plopped down on the ground in front of him and laid his spear across his lap. “I’m Elias.”

“Nice to meet you, Elias! Now, mind telling me what you’re doing out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Elias poked at the ground, but kept his eyes on Gilbert. “Why do you care? I can go wherever I please, and I definitely don’t need to tell a stranger why I’m doing what I’m doing.”

“Smart move, but it’s dangerous out here.” Gilbert thought back to the Shadow Soldier. Someone like that wouldn’t think twice about hurting a child just to get information, or maybe even just for the fun of it. “You said you had a village, right? Aren’t they worried about you?”

The boy hesitated, and some unrecognizable emotion passed over his face, but it was gone fairly quickly. Gilbert tried to get a whiff of his scent, but all he could smell was dirt and dried leaves. Elias had concealed his scent. Huh. Weird, sure. But stupid? Gilbert had clearly misjudged him. “My village doesn’t care about me. I could be missing for days and only three people would care.”

“That can’t be right. Children are important to every village! Besides, I’m sure your parents are worried sick.”

Elias turned rigid, and he stopped poking at the ground. The glare he sent Gilbert was filled with such malice and suppressed rage, Gilbert was actually a bit disturbed by it. How did one boy have so much unsaid anger inside of them? But then the anger dissipated, making him look sad instead. “My village doesn’t like me because I’m different.”

“You don’t seem that different from a normal kid.” That might be a stretch, but Gilbert didn’t want the boy to get upset and kick him again.

“No.” Elias pushed some of his hair back behind his ears and pointed to them. “I’m really different from them.”

Gilbert understood. The trinity knot hanging from his neck, his earlier anger when Gilbert said he didn’t look like a Fae, and his weird statements about Gilbert “defiling” a tree. The boy lived with the Fae, which meant he likely lived in the Orlon Forest. “You live in a village full of Faeries.”

Elias nodded, then his eyes widen. Underneath the disguised scent, Gilbert caught a rush of panic. “Y-you know…”

“No, don’t worry.” Gilbert put his hands up, palms outward. The last thing he needed was this child running back and screaming that a half shapeshifter was near their forest. “I know what’s in the Orlon Forest, but I’m not going to harm them. Believe me, I would rather die than do something like that.”

The fear coming from Elias went away. For all of his suspicion, the kid was too trusting, just like all children. Not that it mattered, Gilbert was obviously telling the truth. Still, his mind wandered back to that Shadow Soldier. Would a child be just as trusting to someone like him? He felt a shiver go down as spine. No, there was no Shadow Soldier here. If there were, Kuma, wherever he was dozing, would have sensed it.

“Shapeshifters hate the Fae,” Elias said softly. “They come and eat Faerie children, that’s what everyone in my village says. Aren’t you a shifter?”

He should probably ask how Elias knew he was one, but he couldn’t ignore the question. Elias was staring at him with wide eyes that were filled with such curiosity and apprehension, it was kind of strange. But some part of Gilbert’s instincts were telling him to comfort Elias. He wasn’t sure why, but his instincts were never wrong. He was alive because of them. So Gilbert leaned forward in determination, ready to comfort this odd boy.

“Look at this.” Gilbert palmed his iron cross pendant. “This is the symbol of the Teuton Tribe, the place where I was born. It was an ancient place, nestled in the plains below the border between Norge and Glaceria. Those plains used to be wild and free before Avalon took them, and during their time of freedom, shapeshifters grew to learn things like honor. Shifters, no matter what animal form they take, would never go into Fae houses to eat children. That was just a myth spread by Fae long ago, and it stuck.” He grinned softly at Elias. “And you know, shapeshifter mothers tell their children that Faeries are going to snatch them away and replace them with one of their own. Do the Fae in your village do that?”

Elias shook his head, his eyes wide. “Never!”

“So you see? Two species that grew to hate each other make up lies just to make the other seem like the enemy. I think shifters and Faeries hate each other so much because they never take the time to get to know one another. They just believe the stories and myths they were told as children, and let ignorance lead them.” Gilbert’s smile softened. “But not everyone is like that. I’ve seen a Fae and shapeshifter fall in love before, and they lived together in harmony for years without any sort of mishaps. They taught each other the ways of their kind, and they listened as the other gave their lessons. It isn’t impossible to accept one another, but it’s easier to live by what we were taught as children instead of trying to change.”

Elias was quiet. That angry storm that seemed to swirl around him was gone now, as he plucked at his wooden spear. “My dad was a shapeshifter,” he suddenly said. “But he’s gone, he left before I was even born. And instead of being born as a Faerie, I was born as a shapeshifter, just like him. Everyone in my village blames me for that, like I asked to be born as a stupid shapeshifter! It isn’t fair.”

That explained a lot. He didn’t grow up with a father, which is most likely why he seemed rather violent. An alpha child needed a father, perhaps more so than an omega child needed a mother. Now Elias didn’t look nearly as angry, he just looked lonely.

“Unfortunately, alpha shapeshifters are known for impregnating omegas and then leaving them,” Gilbert murmured. “Not all are like that, but there are enough of them where it’s seen as a stereotype. If you look at animal mating behaviors, fathers are never there. They leave and move on to the next. That’s probably why many shapeshifter alphas never stay.”

“You sure know a lot,” Elias said after a heartbeat of silence. “Maybe you aren’t that stupid.”

Gilbert chuckled. “I’m neither old nor stupid! Remember that.” He studied Elias a bit more carefully, taking in the way his head tilted and his hands moved. They were all very lupine, and once again he was reminded of Ludwig. He pushed those thoughts out again, a bit irritated at himself. He was being foolish. “Is that why you’re out of the Orlon Forest? Because you were looking for a shapeshifter?”

Elias hesitated, and then he just nodded. “I’ve never met one before. I have a lot of questions to ask!”

Something warm blossomed inside Gilbert’s chest when Elias smiled, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth. It wasn’t a trait all shapeshifters had, but a few predator shifters received them. “How about this? I answer those questions while we head to the Orlon Forest so you can go back home. I’m not going to go inside with you, don’t worry.”

Elias deflated. “Do we have to?”

“Yes,” Gilbert said as he got to his feet. “I don’t know how long you’ve been gone, and the last thing I need is a group of angry Fae accusing me of stealing a child.”

Elias rolled his eyes but climbed to his own feet as well. “Yeah, fine. As long as you answer all of my questions.”

Gilbert laughed. “I’ll do my best, kid.”

And then someone crashed into Gilbert from above.

It had been so sudden, he hadn’t had any time to prepare himself and he simply fell to the ground with someone on his back. He tried to buck the thing off of him, but the foe grabbed his arm and pulled it back, hard. His other hand was pressed into Gilbert’s hair, smashing his cheek into the ground. Gilbert gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. The attacker’s lips were an inch from his ear as a harsh growl spoke to him. “If you even think about moving, I will break this fucking arm. Understand, bastard?”

Gilbert didn’t want to admit to himself that he had been stopped so easily. By the gods, he hadn’t even put up a fight! But he could feel the strain of his arm. If the attacker yanked it back, it would be pulled from its socket. He forced himself to speak without growling or hissing. “Get off of me.”

“_No_.” The attacker shifted his weight, digging his feet directly into Gilbert’s back. “Not until you tell me why the hell you’re talking to this child.”

Gilbert shouldn’t be surprised that that’s what this was about. It probably looked very suspicious, an unknown alpha speaking to a child they did not know. He could have been asking for answers, trying to trick the boy into giving him directions to the Faeries hiding in the Orlon Forest. “It isn’t like that, I promise. He was-” His arm was bent further, and this time he really did cry out. “Gods, I didn’t move!”

“Lovino!” Elias’s voice was shrill and close. “Get off of him! He isn’t an enemy, he’s a friend!”

“I’m going to deal with you in a second, Elias,” the attacker known as Lovino hissed. “Right after this bastard tells me what the fuck he wanted with you.”

“Gods, nothing!” Gilbert exclaimed. That only seemed to fuel Lovino’s anger and he yanked his arm back. Gilbert could feel it _move_ as it was pulled from its socket. A string of curses left him. “Fucking fuck you crazy bitch! I didn’t even fucking move, damnit!”

“It’s not his fault!” Elias shouted, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I found him because I heard you guys talking about a shapeshifter last night and I wanted to see him for myself! He… He promised to answer my questions.”

Lovino growled as his foot dug deeper into Gilbert’s back. “This isn’t the time, Elias. He is an enemy that’s just trying to get you to trust him.”

“He’s not!” Elias sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “You aren’t even giving him a chance to explain himself! Is it because he’s a shapeshifter? You always tell me you’re on my side, Lovino, that you would give shapeshifters a chance. But you aren’t!”

The pressure against Gilbert’s back grew stronger for a moment, before it loosened. Soft words were spoken against his ear again, still filled with that same growl from before. “I’m going to get up, and then you’re going to stand. If you think about attacking, I will cut you down.” True to his word, the pressure was released from Gilbert’s back as the person who had been on it got up.

Gritting his teeth as he moved, Gilbert used his good arm to push himself off of the ground. When he stood up, black spots danced across his vision as burning pain shot through his injured arm. He immediately cradled it against his chest. There was no way he could attack, even if he wanted to, not in this condition. He inhaled sharply. He had handled worse wounds, this was nothing. Still, he threw a glare at his attacker.

“Why did you…” He just stopped talking.

_Lovino_. It hadn’t clicked when he was on the ground, but Lovino was the name of Feliciano’s older brother. Feliciano used to love talking about him, the Fae with the tongue of a viper who acted like he didn’t care even though he cared too much, who had a mate named Antonio, and who was always looking after Feliciano, even when he acted like he didn’t want to. The Fae who was now crouched in front of Elias, wiping at his face with the very same hands that had just pulled Gilbert’s arm from its socket.

“Foolish boy. You know better than to say something like that,” Lovino murmured. He wiped Elias’s face again, dirt now staining his hands. “It doesn’t matter if that man is a shapeshifter or a fellow Faerie; he is still a possible threat. I will talk to him, but if things get messy, run back home.”

Gilbert couldn’t look away from the scene, because that male Fae was practically the spitting image of Feliciano. His hair was darker, more brown than red, and his skin was tanner, but other than that, he could pass for Feliciano’s twin. This was his brother. Lovino was the reason for Gilbert not going into the Orlon Forest with Matthew, and now he was here, standing right in front of him. He couldn’t breathe.

Lovino stood up and faced Gilbert, his face morphing into that of an angry, snarling predator. Just like Elias, he wore a necklace with the trinity knot swinging from it. “_You_. Give me your name and your reason for speaking with my nephew. After that, we’re going to take a trip to my village so we can decide what to do with you.”

_Nephew_. The word echoed in Gilbert’s mind, and rattled through every part of him. Elias was Lovino’s nephew. He looked at the boy, who stared back with wide eyes. No more of that fiery temper, all that was left was a terrified child. Gilbert’s throat tightened. It wasn’t Elias looking at him, it was _Ludwig_. Terrified because his father had just been burned at the stake, trembling because he had just run into the forest with his older brother, crying softly because there weren’t any adults around, and trying to be brave because, until they were safe, there would be no more time for shedding tears.

“Well?” Lovino snapped.

“I have no idea if this name will mean anything to you,” Gilbert whispered. “But my name is Gilbert Beilschmidt. My last name is Beilschmidt.” He ignored the way Elias’s eyes widened, and pressed on. “And I think you are the son of Ludwig and Feliciano Beilschmidt.”

He was almost sure. That was why his instincts had been telling him to comfort Elias earlier, because they knew this boy was related to him. Elias claimed to have a shapeshifter father, one who he had never met, and it was because of that father that he was now a shifter. And now Lovino, Feliciano’s brother, was here and could have very well risked his life for this child in order to protect him from someone he deemed an enemy. Fellow villagers did not do that, but family did.

Elias was still staring at him as the wind picked up around them, rustling the boy’s long hair. The shock in his eyes slowly turned to anger. His eyebrows furrowed, and his upper lip lifted, showing his sharp fangs, the same as Gilbert’s. He gripped his spear and shook his head. He said nothing, but he just kept shaking his head. That anger was there again, hiding the scared child beneath it.

“You are Gilbert Beilschmidt?” Lovino’s voice startled Gilbert, forcing him to looking away from Elias. The male Fae looked shocked. “The half shapeshifter who…” He, too, shook his head. “I heard you were dead.”

Gilbert couldn’t breathe. “I thought-” The breath caught in his throat. “-Feliciano was dead.”

Elias finally spoke, his voice shaking like the sky during a storm. “He is. He’s dead, gone. There’s nothing for you in our village, no one for you to see.”

Lovino took a step closer, sniffing. Seeing what he was trying to do, Gilbert tilted his head to the side and exposed the piece of skin where the neck and shoulder met. Lovino stepped closer and softly sniffed, and then he recoiled back as if he had been hit.

“Underneath all of the blood,” Lovino whispered. “And the fear that was on him when he came home, your scent was there. I never forgot it.”

Gilbert just stared at Lovino. His arm was numbing, his senses were dulling, and his heart was slowing. He could barely hear the words tumbling from his mouth. “Is he alive?” Lovino’s gaze was much more intense than his brother’s. It was if he were staring into Gilbert’s soul, looking into every memory he had that featured Feliciano. The ones where he laughed, where he cried, where he painted beautiful images, where he twirled around and around with Ludwig, where he and Gilbert sang loudly as alcohol danced in their veins, where the three of them sat by the fire, content and happy because they had a found family to call home.

Lovino finally dropped his gaze and took a step back. He looked at Elias. The boy was staring at Lovino with eyes that seemed to be silently pleading for something, but Lovino did not answer that plea. “I’m going to take you back to our village, where all intruders go.” He looked back up and met Gilbert’s gaze. “You will be dealt with accordingly.”

He started to turn around, but Gilbert panicked. He needed an answer. “Please. Please, you must tell me if he’s alive. I will do whatever you say after that.”

Lovino stopped, mid-turn. Gilbert could no longer see his face, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. His heart was in his throat as he tried his hardest to make sense of this chaotic world around him, but it was all moving too quickly.

And then everything slammed into a halt. “He is alive.”

.

Black. Everything was black, bleak. Nothing. There was a dead valley, the ground unnaturally gray and purple. The sky was gray, too, and red lightning flashed periodically across it. A wasteland. Nothing was here, nothing of importance.

But there was someone, a man dressed in a black uniform with a roaring lion stitched on the shirt. He stood in this valley of destruction as blood red lightning shook the ground. He had shoulder length black hair and eyes like chips of ice. Familiar. The man was very familiar, but where had he been seen before? Those ice cold eyes fell on the one gazing around this bleak valley, and in an instant they changed from blue to completely black. A creature with inky black skin formed, as the skin of the man melted away until there was nothing left but a daemon. Its face was grotesque, like it had been trampled on by horses, and chunks of meat dripped from its mouth.

The daemon opened its mouth and let out a piercing shriek, and the world exploded into fire, the air filled with bones hitting drums, and more and more daemons appeared, crawling up from the ground-

“No, NO!” Matthew screamed, jolting awake.

He did not know what to expect upon opening his eyes; perhaps there would be a fiery valley or those horrific daemons crawling out from the earth, but he saw none of it. It was dark, but there was light pooling in from a little entrance, sweet sunlight. It was okay that sweat clung to his body and that his heart still pounded against his chest, because that horror show had not been real.

“Goodness, did you have a nightmare?”

Matthew placed a hand to his head, trying to calm his anxiety. “I… think so.” It had been a vision, he was sure of it. That man had looked familiar, like someone he had seen in another vision. Why had a daemon come from him like that? He tried to swallow, but his throat was incredibly parched. And his head was pounding. By the gods, his visions never made him feel like this anymore.

Wait.

He didn’t have a headache from his vision. That’s right- he had been stopped in the Orlon Forest by two Fae, by one who breathed a heavy fog and another who drew poison from her blood. The last thing he remembered was someone whispering that they would keep him safe before he passed out from his lack of oxygen. He looked down. He was lying in a soft bed with a thin blanket over him. He patted himself down, find that his clothes were still on, as were his boots and glasses, but the little satchel containing his book of shadows was gone. His staff was not leaning against the bed either, meaning that was probably taken as well. He refused to let the panic rise. This had been his plan, minus the fog and poison. He was probably in the Faerie village in the Orlon Forest.

“I know the feeling. I have nightmares all the time, and they’re never pleasant. Would you like me to fix you some lavender infused tea? It helps with anxiety!”

Oh, that’s right. Someone had asked if he had had a nightmare. He tried to make out a figure, and he found one in the corner, sitting on top of a little table. He could just barely make out the pointed ears on the figure. He was really with the Fae.

“N-no, I’m okay, but thank you.” He sat up further and removed the blanket from himself. That vision had made him incredibly sweaty. “I assume I am being held as prisoner?”

The Fae, male, laughed softly. “I am afraid so. I had nothing to do with it, but I apologize for the way you were brought in! I keep telling everyone we shouldn’t be so violent, even though everyone wandering inside the forest is technically an intruder, but I know not everyone is bad! Like you. You don’t look like you could hurt a fly. My brother would tell me that’s really naïve and stupid of me, but it’s the truth.”

Matthew’s aching head was having a little trouble keeping up with the swift pace of the Fae’s voice. He sounded friendly, and he was not treating Matthew like a prisoner at all. He wasn’t even bound to the bed!

“Believe me, I am no enemy,” Matthew said softly. “I was actually trying to be found, though I was hoping we could talk before they grabbed me.”

“You were trying to be found? So you were looking for us?”

“That’s right.” Matthew grimaced as pain pulsed through his head. It must be a side effect of that poison. “I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble, though that may have been inevitable.”

Another soft laugh came from the Fae, and Matthew felt comforted by it despite his predicament. “With the way others treat outsiders, you are correct.” He stood from the small table, and Matthew saw he was holding a little wooden vial. “Does your head hurt? Manon’s poison will do that do you, unfortunately. But in here, I have some feverfew extract.” He shook the vial. “Would you like me to rub some on your temples? Feverfew can easily clear up a headache!”

“Oh, um. Aren’t I prisoner?”

"I already told you, I don’t think you could even hurt a fly, and I am much bigger than a fly. You don’t need to worry about this, the others knew what to expect when they left me alone to watch you!”

The comfort bloomed into something sweeter as Matthew listened to this strange little Fae. He was very friendly. It had been so long since Matthew had talked to someone who spoke in such a gentle and amiable way. There was Gilbert, but “gentle” and “amiable” weren’t exactly words one would use to describe him. “That would be wonderful.” He smiled in the Faerie’s direction. “I’m Matthew Williams, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, right! Where are my manners?” The Fae moved closer, and Matthew did not need for him to say his name, for he already knew it. “My name is Feliciano Beilschmidt, but you can just call me Feli. Everyone does.”

Matthew blinked at the Faerie, claiming his name to be that of Gilbert’s dead brother’s _dead_ mate. Yet here he was, looking so very similar to the one Matthew had seen when he looked into the past. The one in the past had been radiant, with a healthy glow to his skin and a dazzling gleam in amber eyes. He had seemed healthy, a fair amount of plumpness to him. His voice had been like a beautiful song, and it had sounded so happy. This Feliciano, the one in the present, the real one, looked much different. He seemed thinner, though Matthew could not be sure how much skinnier he was. It didn’t seem to be healthy, that was for sure. There were dark circles under amber eyes that no longer glowed as they did. His skin looked much paler too. There was still a beauty to Feliciano, but it was muted, like a shadow had fallen over him.

“Is something a matter?” Feliciano asked. “You look frightened. I know you’re a prisoner, but once you explain why you were in the forest to our leader, she will let you go. You will have a glamour put on you where you won’t remember being in here, but that’s how it has to be. It doesn’t hurt, don’t worry!”

Matthew blinked slowly as he tried to compose himself. He couldn’t help his shock. It was like someone had been brought back from the dead, that’s what this felt like. He had never seen Feliciano die, but Gilbert said he saw blood, so much blood… He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. _Gilbert_. Gilbert must know that, by some miracle, Feliciano was alive. Oh, he would be ecstatic. He could finally start healing! A smile started forming on Matthew’s face at the thought of how happy Gilbert would be.

“I’m sorry. This is just… it’s a lot to take in.” He offered Feliciano his smile, hoping it would put the Faerie at ease.

Feliciano smiled back, accepting it. “Oh, I’m sure! Now here. Let me put the feverfew on you.”

He uncapped the vile and poured a bit onto his finger. Matthew noticed a simple gold band around his ring finger, and his heart ached. With a gentle touch, Feliciano started to rub his finger against Matthew’s left temple, and a soft scent wafted into Matthew’s nose. Feliciano softly said, “The smell eases the tension in your head; it’s used for those suffering with migraines, but it also works for smaller headaches like this.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” He had never used feverfew before, since the herb did not grow in Glaceria. Most of his herbal work was used for spells anyway. “Are you some sort of healer?”

“I am! It’s my job in the village.” Feliciano walked around to the other side of the bed, and did the same thing to his right temple. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any powerful magic that lets me heal others, but I can grow just about any herb and flower, even ones that aren’t native to Avalon. Nifty, huh?”

Feliciano’s voice was so cheerful, so light and friendly. Matthew actually felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. How could one who lost so much still smile so readily? Matthew had never loved someone like Feliciano loved Ludwig, but he did not think he could go on if he did lose a love like that. Realizing he hadn’t said anything in response to Feliciano’s statement, he smiled and nodded. “Yes, very nifty.”

Feliciano stepped back, and handed the bottle to Matthew. “You can rub some under your nose if you want. That might help more.”

“You’re very kind,” Matthew murmured as he did just that.

“I’m just trying to help, please think nothing of it.” Feliciano smiled brightly, and recapped the vial when Matthew was finished. “Now, that should start working soon. Until then, try not to stress, though it doesn’t look like you _are_ stressing, which is incredible. If I had been taken prisoner, I would be scared out of mind! I don’t even think I would be able to function!”

Before Matthew could speak, a female voice piped in from right outside the opening. “Feli, darling, you are much too kind to our prisoners. Haven’t you learned your lesson from past captives? That one tried to grope you and another tried to kill you!”

Feliciano rolled his eyes in Matthew’s direction as he smiled. “Manon and Govert are keeping watch from outside,” he whispered. “They’re the ones that dragged you in, but don’t be intimidated. Govert is actually really sweet.” In a louder voice, he said, “And that’s why you guys are outside! To protect me!”

“That is one reason,” a male voice said, though it sounded muffled by something. Matthew wondered if it was from that scarf the Fae had been wearing when Matthew saw him. He shivered at the memory of the intimidation in the male’s eyes. It was a look he would not forget anytime soon.

Feliciano smiled back down at Matthew. “Okay. Our leader will be here momentarily to speak with you. I’m going to make a poultice for that knee of yours; it’s incredibly inflamed.”

This kindness was going to kill him. Matthew watched as Feliciano turned around and began heading toward the opening. He couldn’t leave just yet, he didn’t know about Gilbert. In fact, Feliciano probably thought Gilbert was dead, too. He needed to know.

“Wait just a moment.”

Feliciano stopped and spun around, tilting his head to the side. “What is it?”

Matthew hesitated for a moment. How did he even begin? “There is… something I need to tell you. It’s about-”

“Elias, whoa! Kid, wait!” the female, Manon, exclaimed from outside. Not even a second later, a child launched itself right into Feliciano.

Matthew could clearly see the startled look on Feliciano’s face as little arms wrapped themselves around him from behind. “Elias?” The male turned his head to the side as he tried to look at the body attached to his back. “I’m working, sweetheart. And you know you aren’t supposed to be in here.”

The boy called Elias slipped forward so he was in front of Feliciano now, and something cold settled in Matthew’s stomach. Feliciano had been pregnant in the past… That had been nine years ago. The boy standing in front of him now looked to be exactly nine years-old. He put his hands on Feliciano’s stomach, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Don’t go outside! Stay in here! It’s safe, and there’s someone bad outside!”

Matthew had really, really bad feeling about this.

“What are you talking about?” Feliciano asked, running his fingers through the boy’s matted golden-blond hair. “And what in the goddess’s name happened to your hair? You looked so handsome earlier.”

“_Mom_, listen to me!” His voice was shaking terribly, like he was going to burst into tears at any moment. “You have to stay in here, please! He’s… He’s going to take you away from me.”

“Elias, no one is going to take me away from you.” His voice was light, but there was something strained within it, along with a dash of puzzlement. He continued to run his fingers through Elias’s hair. “Did you see something scary in the forest? You didn’t go far, did you? If you did-”

“Feli.” That was Govert’s voice. “Lovino is looking for you.”

Matthew could hear a bit of commotion from outside, like many Fae were gathering around something. He could hear whispers, murmurs, and a few cries of outrage. Elias gripped Feliciano tightly, and buried his face into his stomach. “Mom, please.”

Feliciano firmly took Elias’s hands from him and placed them at the boy’s sides. His gaze had hardened, but not by much. He pecked the top of Elias’s head. “We will talk about this, okay? Let me see what’s going on, and then you can tell me where this fear of yours is coming from.” He stepped back from the boy with a reassured smile on his face then glanced at Matthew. “Don’t worry, we’ll talk first.” Then he disappeared from the small hut.

Elias stared at the spot his mother had just been occupying, and Matthew watched him, the boy that was Gilbert’s nephew. Without even sparing Matthew a look, he raced outside.

Not knowing what else to do, Matthew swung himself out of bed and carefully stood up. Without his staff to steady him, he had to move very slowly to the entrance. When he got there, Govert and Manon did not even look his way. They were staring at what was happening in the center of their very small village. Matthew could not help but look, too.

A Fae that looked very similar to Feliciano was standing a pace or two away from Gilbert. Gilbert was holding his left arm to his chest, like it was injured, and he was staring directly at Feliciano with wide eyes. Feliciano was frozen, Matthew could not even tell if he was breathing. Around them, Fae were staring at Gilbert. One mother grabbed her child and pushed them behind her. Some of the stronger looking Fae shifted in front of smaller ones. A few alphas even put their arms around omegas, like they were protecting them. From who? Matthew’s eyes widened. They sensed Gilbert as a threat because he was part shapeshifter. Matthew had no idea the tension between the two groups was this high.

But that didn’t seem to matter to Feliciano and Gilbert. Slowly, Feliciano shook his head as he crept forward. He looked like a doe as he slunk closer to Gilbert. “You… I…”

Gilbert seemed to be at a lost. Matthew’s heart ached at the sight of the pain and shock in his eyes, at the tears that were so clearly filling them. It completely shattered as Gilbert attempted to smile like he did, with that slight arrogance and reassurance. “H-hey, Feli.”

Feliciano made it in front of Gilbert. Matthew could not see his face, but he could see his shaking shoulders and hands. He could see the same shakiness coming from Gilbert, too. Feliciano’s hands pressed themselves to Gilbert’s cheeks. A tear spilled over, trailing down to Feliciano’s hand as the two looked at each other.

“You’re alive?” Feliciano whispered.

“Somehow,” Gilbert murmured. His smile wavered as he lifted his own hand to wipe at Feliciano’s face. “And you’re somehow alive too.”

More tears escaped the alpha, and Matthew watched as he fell apart, as he heard Feliciano shatter with him. The Faerie cried out in such pain, a song of agony coming from him as he threw himself at Gilbert. Gilbert caught him, and held him tightly with one arm around his waist. They stood there, sobbing, until the weight of their pain and relief became too much to bear and they fell to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life. Their cries were for the nine years spent apart, where they had to make their way without each other. Their cries were for the cold death they thought they had both fallen into. And, perhaps more so than anything, their cries were for the alpha that was not there with them, who was not holding them in strong arms. A missing brother for Gilbert, a missing mate for Feliciano, and a missing father for Elias.

Matthew pressed his hands to his mouth as he cried with them. Tears burned his eyes as they spilled down his face. They did not deserve this. Gilbert did not deserve the burning and poisonous alcohol he had found, and Feliciano did not deserve the cheerful attitude he had created when it was clear _this_ is what he wanted to do- to cry, to scream, to curse the gods for taking away someone who had meant so much to him.

Around them, Fae were shooting them filthy looks. Matthew didn’t understand it. He wanted to shield the two from it, but he couldn’t, it would only make things worse. Only a few of the Fae were giving them any sort of sympathetic looks; the Faerie that must be Feliciano’s brother had been joined by another, one with tan skin and curly brown hair. He held Feliciano’s brother close, but it seemed to be out of comfort, not protection. Manon and Govert were staring at the ground with sad expressions on their face, but that was it. No one else.

Matthew saw Elias a couple of paces away, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at his mother and this stranger crying their eyes out. He must have known who Gilbert was before they came to the village. He must have gotten scared. He watched as Elias shook his head, making his long hair conceal his face, and Matthew felt his heart ache again. It wasn’t fair.

“Well, if you’re crying, you must somehow be connected to all of this,” a new female voice said to Matthew’s right. Govert and Manon straightened, and Matthew had the feeling this was their leader. She waved her wrist, and Govert and Manon slowly walked away, closer to the commotion going on. The female walked closer to Matthew, clutching his staff of oak and runes in one hand. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Matthew wiped his face. “I am just a companion of Gilbert’s,” he said softly, as to not disturb the reunion in front of him. “But my name is Matthew Williams, and I am a seer. I have been looking for this place for a very long time.”

Her eyebrows lifted at his title. “Call me Catalina. I am the leader of this village. If you’re a seer, I suspect you are here for the _Fabula_.”

It was here. The book was here. This journey had not been for nothing, because his vision had been true! Matthew looked back at Feliciano and Gilbert. They were kneeling in front of each other, wiping at their faces even as they cried more. Another tear escaped Matthew. “That I am.”

Catalina stood beside Matthew, a strange warmth coming from her and spreading all the way across Matthew’s arm. She sighed softly, a sadness to her voice. “My poor Feli. He is so young, only fifty-seven, yet he is already a mother and he seems to have lost the love of his life.” She shook her head. “I must question you and your companion, but if Feliciano trusts the two of you, then I feel compelled to as well.”

Gilbert pulled Feliciano back into his arms, cradling the omega close as he ran his hand through auburn hair. His red eyes met Matthew’s, and they seemed to burn into him. Matthew could offer nothing but a gentle, tear-filled smile.

Gilbert mouthed the words, _“thank you”_, as if this were all because of Matthew. He just shook his head in response.

“We will answer whatever questions you have,” Matthew murmured, unable to look away from the two in the center of the camp. “But please. Allow him just a few more minutes with his brother.”

If Catalina was surprised by the phrasing of Matthew's words, she did not show it. “I will allow him as much time as he needs, Seer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting to write Feliciano since I started this, you have no idea how hard it has been to wait this long to really put him in. He and Ludwig are my favorite characters and finally their chapters are here/getting there.
> 
> I actually had a lot more planned for this chapter, but I didn't want to make it too long. Thus, I have changed the amount of chapters from 15 to 16. I might even up it more in the future, we'll see.
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> -Mab is character from a Shakespearean play, and after he named her she grew to be very popular, appearing in many other forms of fantasy literature. She is seen usually referred to as a Faerie Queen, just like in my fic! She will be discussed more in the future of this series.


	7. Star Crossed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure if anyone would be interested, but I made a little playlist for this fic on Spotify right [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6c9W5K5Ioxar3TQGIhY4QJ). I have two other Hetalia playlists too, so please take a listen if you're interested :)
> 
> Now please enjoy the story Ludwig and Feliciano share together :)

_Seventeen years ago; outskirts of Versteckt, a small village in the mountains_

“Hey, you there. Stop for a minute, won’t you?” Feliciano cringed at the sharp voice behind him. He didn’t listen to it, quickening his pace instead. He had hoped to pass the three alphas clustered together without them noticing, but it sounded like his silent plea had fallen on deaf ears. Three footsteps slapped against the dirt road behind him, and sweat beaded on his forehead. A calloused hand wrapped itself around his arm, yanking him back. He yelped as he tried to pull himself away from the one clutching his arm, but that only made their grip tighter. “I said _stop_.”

Something like this had never happened to Feliciano before. He tried to remember what it was Lovino had told him to do, just in case he found himself in a situation like this, but his mind was spinning too fast for him to recall anything. He screamed, loudly, just in case anyone were around on this silent dirt road in the middle of the night, but a hand slapped itself over his mouth and cut him off mid-shout.

A gravelly voice spoke beside his ear, and he closed his eyes from the hot breath against him. “Listen. We don’t want to hurt ya, but we will if you cause us any trouble. There’s three of us and one of you, remember that.”

Feliciano opened his eyes when he heard shuffling in front of him. Two skinny alphas were standing in front of him, leering with sharp gleams in their eyes. He shouldn’t have been traveling so late at night, but he knew a huge storm was coming, could hear the thunder echoing off the mountains in the distance, and decided it would be better to head to the nearby village rather than try to find shelter in the forest. Summer storms were always the worst, after all. Now he just felt like a total idiot. Lovino would surely scold him for his stupidity. That is, _if_ he ever saw his brother again.

One of the alphas in front of him snickered. “Omegas wandering around at night are looking for something, right? We’ll give you something, don’t you worry.”

“After we steal any goods off ya!” the third alpha piped in, staring at the case in Feliciano’s hand.

He felt sick. Other omegas in his village in the Orlon Forest had told him things like this could happen, but he shrugged them off. Of all the things Feliciano was scared of, something like this never crossed his mind. He really was just a stupid child. His hand tightened around the case, filled with a blank canvas and brushes, and that’s when an idea entered his mind. He stopped struggling, and nodded. The alpha behind him, who still held his arm and had a hand over his mouth, chuckled. “It’s better when they’re obedient.”

As soon as his grip slackened around him, Feliciano blindly swung his case above his head and just prayed to the goddess that it hit the alpha in the head. It must have hit something because the alpha let go of him completely, shouting, “Fucking bitch!”

Feliciano wasted no time slipping away from him, and trying to make a run for it, but one of the others grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. The force of it caused him to drop his case.

“You ain’t goin' anywhere,” an alpha hissed. It wasn’t the same one who had first grabbed him, it was one of the skinnier ones. “You’re paying for that.”

“J-just let me go!” Feliciano felt like he was short of breath. This summer air was constricting his lungs. “I really don’t have much on me, but you can take my money and my art supplies, that’s all I have. I-it isn’t much!”

The alphas chortled, except for the one who had first grabbed him. He was holding a hand over an eye and glaring at Feliciano. “Yeah, we’ll take it. In a moment.” He started fiddling with the black band around Feliciano’s head, and he felt his stomach drop. “Got a dead mate?”

No, he didn’t. He wore it to hide his pointed ears, and because it was black, most alphas left him alone since they thought he was mourning a mate. It usually worked, but not tonight. “Y-yes.”

“And yet you don’t smell like you’ve ever had a mate.”

Feliciano struggled against their hold, but the other skinny alpha gripped him from behind, and he felt such a powerful wave of fear crash into him that he had to gasp for breath. He opened his mouth to scream again, and lifted a leg to blindly kick at one of the alphas, but the alpha behind him covered his mouth and he then was back where he was just moments ago. His mind clouded with terror, and his body heaved in panic. He felt like he was heavier than an oak tree, unable to move. He could no longer think, and he was not sure if he was even breathing. Some part of him would be lost tonight and there was nothing he could do to stop these alphas.

“Hey, who the hell are you?” The words spoken by one of the alphas were filled with a threatening growl. The alpha was looking behind Feliciano, so he could not see who it was this alpha was speaking to. “We’re busy so why don’t you move the fuck along?”

The hands around Feliciano loosened, and instinct broke through his fear hazed mind: _RUN_. He shoved himself back, slipping right past the skinny alpha who barked in protest and tried to reach for him, but Feliciano was too quick. He just barely twisted out of their reach as he turned around, only to find someone else standing there. He was huge, with broad shoulders and muscles that rippled over bare arms. He was dressed in dark green pants and a black shirt, both made from material that looked foreign to Feliciano. His blond hair was slicked back, showing a sharp, handsome face that held no room for anything other than anger and irritation. Stormy blue eyes rested on Feliciano, and they softened. Feliciano had no way of knowing, but he did not think this man was bad.

“Get behind me,” the stranger said, his gaze hardening as it found the three alphas again.

Feliciano did as he was told without hesitating. The stranger’s scent flooded his nostrils, rich with the smell of the earth and smoke, and that extra smell that was just _alpha_. Feliciano swallowed his panic and peered around the stranger’s broad back. The other alphas were snarling.

“Who do you think you are?” the largest alpha growled, stalking forward. “That omega belongs to us. He was traveling with us. You can’t just barge in here and take him!”

The stranger turned his head to the side, his blue gaze gleaming in the darkness of the forest. Feliciano could only shake his head to what the alpha had said. The stranger turned his head back around.

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” Feliciano heard an unfamiliar accent. The three alphas across from them had a similar one. “Get out of here, and leave this omega alone.”

The alphas didn’t back down. “And if we don’t?” the large one, who must be their leader, sneered. “You really gonna fight for an omega you just met? Wanna get laid that badly, huh?”

Feliciano wanted to cover his ears from the crude words. He had never met such horrible alphas. The stranger didn’t seem to like their taunts either, because he stepped forward with a growl on his lips. The skinny alphas took a couple steps back.

“I really think I am.”

The leader of the trio laughed. “We’ll see about that.” Feliciano’s eyes widened as a glow came from the alpha, and when it disappeared, there was a large boar standing in the alpha’s place. Its fur was brown, and it looked much larger than other wild boars Feliciano had seen. Its tusks were longer too, looking very similar to the thick branches of a tree. Could it be a dire boar? Goddess, no. The two skinnier alphas began glowing too, and when the light ceased, there were small coyotes in their place. Feliciano’s throat turned to lead as he tried to swallow.

“Shapeshifters,” he whispered. He had never seen a shapeshifter before, but he had heard of them. The natural enemy to a Faerie. He was going to get this poor alpha killed. “W-we can run,” he said to the alpha in front of him. “Please, let’s just run!”

“No.” The alpha looked down at Feliciano, his gaze softening once more. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re going to have to trust me.” His eyes were blue, like chips of ice. Feliciano had never seen such eyes before, nor had he ever seen such a large alpha. He could only nod. Maybe he trusted this alpha because he was very handsome, but there seemed to be some sort of genuine nobleness coming from him, making Feliciano think he would truly be safe. “Good. Do not run, they will find you.”

Then the alpha turned back around, just as the boar and coyotes charged. Feliciano held his breath, trying to find any sort of weapon on the alpha, but there was nothing. His eyes widened when the alpha began to glow, and then, in _his_ place, stood a huge black-as-night wolf. No, it was larger than a regular wolf. This was a _dire wolf_, beasts that were larger, stronger, and fiercer than a normal wolf. His height must have been around Feliciano’s shoulder, perhaps just slightly shorter. He fell to the ground in awe of the creature. The wolf snarled and charged, and in the darkness it looked like he was flying.

Feliciano wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The boar swung its head, attempting to impale the wolf with one of its tusks, but the wolf easily jumped over it. He struck one of his hind legs out and kicked the boar before he stood on both legs and batted at one of the coyotes. He fought with grace, as if he planned every single step before taking it. Feliciano was transfixed.

The coyote leapt for the wolf’s neck, but instead of moving away, the wolf lowered his head and opened his mouth. He bit the back of the coyote’s neck and flung him into the air, not waiting to see the coyote come crashing to the ground. The other coyote snarled and leapt for the wolf, and Feliciano let out a shout as the smaller canine sank his fangs into the wolf’s ear. The wolf fell to the ground and rolled onto his back, crushing the coyote, and when he stood, the coyote stayed on the ground, whimpering and growling. Had the wolf won? Feliciano’s eyes widened. The boar hadn’t been stopped. He looked around, desperately trying to find the creature, but he saw the animal too late, as it charged for the wolf.

“Move to your right!” Feliciano yowled. “Hurry!”

The wolf didn’t hesitate, and was able to jump away from the brunt of the boar’s attack, but it still managed to cut the wolf’s shoulder with one of its tusks. Feliciano choked on a cry as the boar quickly spun around and charged again. The wolf crouched to the ground, his hindquarters in the air and his upper body pressed against the earth as he snarled. His ice blue eyes were filled with rage, and his teeth were glistening in the faint moonlight. Feliciano did not feel any sort of fear as he stared at the predator. He just held his breath as the wolf shot forward, moving with the force of nature. The boar did not falter. Feliciano thought he could feel the earth shake with its movements, as if its hooves were that powerful. He wanted to close his eyes as the beasts grew closer to each other, but right when it looked like the boar was about to stab the wolf in the chest, the wolf leapt into the sky and landed behind the boar. The boar was moving much too fast to slow down and slammed into a tree. It struggled as it tried to free itself, but it seemed one of its tusks were lodged in the tree. The wolf stalked toward the boar, slow and stiff. His lips drew back, revealing those sharp fangs again, and then he crouched down and sank those teeth into the boar’s left hind leg. Even from his distance, Feliciano could hear a crunch. There was no way the boar could charge now, and if he could not charge, he could not fight.

The wolf snarled at the boar and then he snarled at the two coyotes with their tails between their legs. The coyotes shifted back into humans, fear in their eyes. A moment later, the boar shifted into the large alpha, and slumped against the tree. He howled in pain as he clutched his bloody and battered leg.

“Fucker! All for a slutty omega! Gods, you’re fucking insane.”

Moving closer to the alpha, the wolf lowered his head until he was eye level with him. The noise the wolf let out made goosebumps crawl across Feliciano’s skin. It was like a cross between a growl and a bark, and it sounded deadly. But the wolf did not attack the man, he simply stepped back and watched the man scramble back, the two skinny alphas attempting to drag him away when they were closer. They vanished down the dirt road, the way Feliciano had just come from, and a knot loosened inside of Feliciano’s chest. They were running away.

He looked back at the wolf, and wondered if he were truly safe. He claimed to trust this alpha, but… He steeled his nerves. That was no way to think of his savior. He climbed to his feet as the wolf slowly walked over to him. He stopped when he was right in front of Feliciano, and, for the second time that night, Feliciano felt the breath catch in his throat. The wolf stood equal height to him, and his eyes pierced through Feliciano. A bright light came from the creature, and a moment later, the blond alpha stood in his place. His eyes were so blue as they stared into Feliciano’s eyes of amber, and the Faerie did not think he could look away. He did not think he wanted to. Something warm crawled down Feliciano’s spine as he unconsciously looked down and found the black shirt and green pants still on the alpha’s body.

“Oh,” Feliciano breathed. “Your clothes are still on.”

Perhaps that was not the best thing to say to the person who had just rescued him.

The alpha’s face exploded into a shade of crimson, and he immediately ducked his head. “O-of course they are. Shifters have adapted over the centuries, so our clothes don’t… come off.”

The alpha no longer looked terrifying. He almost looked like a little boy with his face as red as it was. Feliciano tilted his head to the side as the rest of his fear left him. He was okay.

“I’m sorry,” the alpha suddenly said, staring at his feet. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I heard you scream, and had to see what was going on, just in case. Did they hurt you?”

Feliciano’s heart warmed. What a selfless alpha. He shook his head. “No, I’m fine! And please, don’t apologize, you didn’t scare me. You saved me! If it weren’t for you, well, I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t heard me. Oh, my name is Feliciano! It’s so nice to meet you, and thank you so much for saving me. They would have stolen all of the money I had if it weren’t for you.” He refused to voice what else would have happened, too. “What’s your name?”

The alpha was staring at Feliciano again, with wide eyes and a still red face, all trace of anger and irritation gone. “Ludwig.”

Feliciano smiled. “Hello, Ludwig! Can I ask what you’re…”But he trailed off when he saw something dark trickling down Ludwig’s arm. His eyes widened. He had already forgotten that the boar’s tusk had struck him across the shoulder. “You’re bleeding! Here, let me see!”

“What?” Ludwig blinked as if he were waking up. He lifted his sleeve, revealing a nasty and bloodied line across his bicep. “This isn’t anything.”

“Don’t be silly, look how much it’s bleeding! Sit down, I’ll take care of it.” Feliciano slid his small bag from his shoulder and began rifling around for the items he had brought with him on this journey of his. He let out a triumphant noise as he pulled a small jar from his bag. He slung his bag back over his shoulder and unscrewed the jar, and when he looked back up he found Ludwig still staring at him. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

Ludwig’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but then he just shrugged. “Oh, alright.” He sat on the grass, and Feliciano kneeled beside him.

“This is honey,” he said, dipping his fingers inside the jar. “It works really well against infection.” He drew his fingers away and began rubbing them against the open wound. He felt the shudder that ran through Ludwig. “I know it feels weird, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ludwig looked down at him. “What are you doing walking through the mountains at this hour? It’s dangerous out here for anyone, regardless of their typing.”

Feliciano brushed the blood away with his sleeve, ignoring the way it stuck to his shirt. He was the apprentice healer of his village, blood didn’t bother him like it once did. Besides, the red color of it fascinated him. He was so used to seeing golden blood, but there was something raw and beautiful about red blood. It smelled metallic, too, not like the sweet smell that came from Faeries. “It’s going to storm, and I didn’t want to be stuck outside. I’m trying to get to the town nearby. Ver… Uh. Vers… well, I forget the name because it’s not written in the common tongue, but that’s the place!”

“Versteckt?” Ludwig sounded surprised.

“Yes! That’s it!” Feliciano smiled at Ludwig. He dipped his fingers into the honey again and lathered more on the wound. “I thought it would be better to just get there tonight instead of running through the rain tomorrow.” His smile faded. “I’m not very smart. Just look what happened when I did that.”

“You believe this is your fault?” Feliciano wasn’t too sure if it was a question or a statement, but he nodded anyway, concentrating on Ludwig’s wound rather than his face. “Don’t.” His voice was soft. It should be weird an alpha as large as him could speak so quietly. “These are not the days of old, where omegas could not leave their homes without fear of being hurt. That was their fault, don’t blame yourself. Unfortunately, shapeshifter alphas can become rather, well, crazy during their ruts.”

“Oh.” Feliciano rubbed his sticky fingers against his pants, and placed the lid back on the jar. “Is that why they attacked me?”

“Maybe. Or they were just bad alphas.” Ludwig shrugged. “It isn’t an excuse, what I just said. It’s something that can be controlled, some just choose not to control their nature.”

Feliciano bit his lip to hide his smile, despite their heavy topic of conversation. Ludwig was very sweet, though it didn’t seem like he was aware of it. He was a good alpha, a good man. He decided to voice his opinion, without really thinking of the consequence. “You’re very kind.”

Ludwig looked down at Feliciano, right as Feliciano looked up at him. Their faces were so close, their foreheads almost brushed against one another’s. They looked away, and Ludwig coughed. “I’m just doing what’s right.”

Feliciano once again had to hide his smile as his heart started pounding against his chest. He began untying the black cloth around his head, deciding he could use it to wrap Ludwig’s arm. “Since you asked me, I’ll ask you: what are you doing out here so late? It’s _dangerous_ for all types, after all.”

Ludwig made a noise that was almost a laugh, but he sounded rather surprised, like he wasn’t used to the sound. Feliciano could tell he wasn’t the type of express himself with laughter and smiles, but that was okay. It seemed he expressed himself in other ways. “Nothing, really. I like to go for walks when I can’t sleep.”

“Ohh, I do that too! The forest always relaxes me, does it relax you too?”

“It does.” Ludwig moved, and Feliciano felt him freeze. He looked back up and horror came crashing down on him. Oh, he really was an idiot. He didn’t even think about what the cloth was hiding, he just wanted to help the one who had helped him! He instinctively covered his pointed ears.

“Y-you didn’t see anything! It’s a trick of the light, I’m sure. I’m not… Not whatever it looks like I am. A shapeshifter did not just fight for a Faerie, that’s definitely not what just happened!”

Ludwig was silent. The forest around them sang its nightly summertime song, but Feliciano was not entirely sure he could hear it over the sound of his heart. Shapeshifters and Fae never got along. Wars of the past, differences, displacement of shifters from Raetia long, long ago, it was all there in the history of the two creatures. Feliciano did not understand it. He had never met a shapeshifter before tonight, and just because three tried to attack him meant nothing. There were rotten apples in every orchard. But just because he didn’t care for the hatred of the species did not mean Ludwig felt the same. He could despise all Fae. Feliciano had no idea why the thought caused tears to form in his eyes.

Feeling silly for covering his ears, Feliciano dropped his hands and hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You’re Fae?”

“Yes.”

He kept his eyes on the ground, trying to ignore the sting inside of them. He should just go home, trek back to the Orlon Forest. He had left for personal reasons, but maybe Lovino was right. Maybe he was foolish for thinking he could wander off whenever he felt like it. Above him, he heard Ludwig sniff at the air. “Oh. That’s why your scent is different.”

The alpha didn’t sound angry. He glanced up, and found Ludwig staring at one of his ears rather intently. His eyes found Feliciano’s and he blushed. “Excuse me. I’ve never met a Faerie before.”

Feliciano blinked. Oh. _Oh_ this alpha had to be a figment of his imagination. Was it possible for someone to be so sweet? He brushed back some of his hair and fixed Ludwig with a quizzical look. Ludwig leaned away as Feliciano stared at him through narrowed eyes. Ludwig must have some dark secret, like he’s a murderer, or one of those horrible goblins that live underground, or _something_. Feliciano leaned away with a small smile. Or perhaps Ludwig was just a sweet alpha.

“And I’ve never met a shapeshifter before.”

Feliciano and Ludwig stared at each other again, like their eyes could not stop gravitating toward one another. Feliciano tilted his head to the side, his bangs slipping over his eyes. “But I’m very happy to meet one now.”

Ludwig didn’t smile, but his eyes sparked. “Likewise, Faerie.”

Believing that was that, Feliciano started to slip the black cloth around Ludwig’s bicep. “This is going to have to do for now. It should be more than enough to stop the bleeding, because it isn’t as deep as I originally thought. I won’t need to stitch it either, so that’s good! Great, actually, because I don’t have a needle on me, or any thread.”

“I could have ripped my shirt,” Ludwig said suddenly. “You didn’t have to use that.”

“Hm?” Feliciano tied the cloth into a little ribbon and wiped his hands on his pants again. “This thing? It’s nothing, I just found some black fabric when my brother and I took a trip to the market. I think it was around five years ago?” He shrugged. Select members of his village took monthly visits to the nearest market days away from their forest, disguised with their glamour so Avalonians could not see they were Fae. “I can just see if this town has more fabric.”

“That’s well and good, but…” Ludwig faltered. Feliciano patiently watched as he started to wring his hands together. “Doesn’t this mean something to you?”

He wasn’t too sure what Ludwig was talking about, it was just fabric after all, but then it clicked. He laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no! I don’t wear this in mourning!” Ludwig’s bewildered look just made him laugh harder. “Is it that surprising?” He wiped a tear away and sat fully on the ground to give his knees a rest. “I wear this whenever I leave my village to hide my ears. Most Fae are comfortable with glamour, which makes people focus on another characteristic of ours instead of our pointed ears, but I’m always scared they can see through it, so I got this. It keeps alphas away, too, those not of my village who think they might have a chance with me. No one wants to flirt with the omega with a dead mate, right?”

Ludwig blinked once, and then he chuckled softly. The sound was deep and beautiful. Feliciano wanted to hear more of it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I find it funny because you called yourself stupid earlier, yet you go and do something like this, contradicting that statement.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened in surprise. He was used to being seen as stupid, as a nuisance who is constantly trailing behind his brother and Antonio, his brother’s mate, because he’s scared of his own shadow. And now here is a stranger, telling him he was not stupid. He did not know what to say in response to such words.

It was quiet between them for a moment before Ludwig stood up. “It’s late. We should get going.”

Puzzled, Feliciano stood as well. “Get going where?”

“To Versteckt. It isn’t far, only twenty minutes north. I’ll walk you there.”

Feliciano was pleasantly surprised at the proposition. He wanted to keep talking to Ludwig, he wouldn’t mind talking to him later in the night as thunder shook the mountains around them and rain burst from the heavens. But… “I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much for me, I can find it myself, I promise!”

Ludwig shook his head. “It’s no trouble, I’m going there now.” His face darkened again, though it could have just been Feliciano’s imagination. It was kind of hard to see in the dark, after all. “I live there, actually.”

The goddess truly was on Feliciano’s side tonight. He giggled softly. “In that case, let me grab my things.”

Once he had the case in his hand, he smiled brightly at Ludwig, who looked away as thunder rumbled in the distance. The two headed north, down the dirt path, speaking quietly of nothing in particular until they made it to the cliff’s edge and were looking down. Feliciano could not help the small gasp that left him. A cute little town was down there, nestled inside a dip of the mountain. The small lights from candles on windowsills looked like blazing, red stars from this distance. The houses were all made from wood, and they looked so much sturdier than the huts in the Orlon Forest. They were clustered together, even though there was so much room in the little valley. It was obvious some of the structures were not houses, like the one further down the valley that seemed to be more than one story. A post was beside it, housing two horses, indicating it was an inn or a tavern. Above the rolling hills of the mountains, the sky looked down upon the sleeping village. Stars twinkled, and the half-moon glowed brightly despite the onslaught of dark clouds rushing in. Stretching east of the village was farmland. Feliciano could make out rows and rows of vegetation, along with a few houses here and there. He wondered if there were pastures for cattle beyond the farm. And then, stretching west of the village, was a field of wildflowers. It seemed to go on and on forever. His right hand itched, desperate to paint a picture of this gorgeous village.

“This is Versteckt,” Ludwig said. “It means ‘hidden’ in the language of shapeshifters.”

“It’s beautiful,” Feliciano murmured.

“It is.” Ludwig gestured to the cliff. “Come, we have to climb down.”

It was not until he said that that Feliciano realized how tired he was. He would love to talk to Ludwig until the sun rose over the mountaintop, but his legs were sore, and his rather traumatic experience was beginning to catch up to him. He needed a good night’s rest.

Surprisingly, there were steps pressed into the side of the grassy cliff, held up by long posts. They didn’t even shake as Feliciano descended down, following after Ludwig. When they made it to the bottom, Ludwig led him into the small village. “I’ll take you to the inn. It’s right around the center of town.”

It was quiet, though Feliciano could hear small conversation drifting from open windows. Inside one of the houses they passed, he heard a child singing and clapping along with her family. He smiled to himself at the image it created in his mind. This place seemed so peaceful.

Ludwig stopped in front of a structure that looked like a big house. Flowers were planted along the perimeter, and they danced in the gentle summer wind. He looked up when Ludwig began shifting. “This is it. Will you be alright?”

Feliciano smiled softly. “I will be.” He looked back up at the sky as thunder echoed through the valley. The storm was almost upon them. “Will the innkeeper mind me being Fae?”

“I do not know. This is a village of shifters, so I’m sure everyone’s opinion is different.”

“I will just have to use my glamour then, and hope for the best.” He smiled at Ludwig. “Thank you again, Ludwig. You really helped me tonight.” And then, despite himself and his better judgement, he lifted himself on his toes and pressed a kiss to Ludwig’s cheek. He didn’t wait for a response, just hurried toward the front door.

“Feliciano, wait.” He froze at the shaky voice pulling him back. He turned his head. Ludwig was staring at him, his hands clenched at his side and a determined gleam in his eyes. “T-tomorrow, can I meet you? Here? If you’re staying for a while, that is.”

Truth be told, Feliciano had no idea how long he was staying, but he did not tell Lovino when he would be back home. There was no set time for him to go back. So he smiled at Ludwig. “I do hope I’ll see you in the morning, Ludwig.”

Ludwig smiled softly, and it made Feliciano dizzy. “Oh. Okay. Goodnight, then.”

"Goodnight."

.

True to his word, Feliciano found Ludwig waiting for him outside the next morning. The summer storm had passed that night, as Feliciano lay awake and thought of the alpha with blond hair and blue eyes, and a kind smile and gentle voice. He waved to the innkeeper, an old man who didn’t look up from his desk, and then he bolted out the door and nearly crashed into a very hard chest.

“Good morning to you too,” Ludwig said when Feliciano had righted himself.

He chuckled, his chest filled with a joy he just could not describe. “Good morning! I was surprised, there’s a _bathtub_ in my washroom, but no running water. I’ve never been anywhere with running water, because only big cities have them, but there’s a tub! I can fill it with hot water and take a _bath_! I’ve never done that before, some older Faeries have, but I’ve lived in the forest all my life so- Ludwig, why is your face so red?”

“It’s not.” Ludwig looked up, then down, and then back up again. Anywhere but Feliciano, it seemed.

“It looks red,” Feliciano said. Ludwig was very pale, and in the sunlight, Feliciano was able to see just how handsome the alpha truly was. “Are you embarrassed because I was talking about taking a-”

“_Anyway_, are you hungry?”

The one thing that held Feliciano’s attention better than anything: food. “Yes! Oh, is that what we’re doing, getting breakfast?”

Ludwig finally looked at him. “If you would like. I thought I could show you around the village when we finish eating, if you don’t have anything else planned.”

Feliciano beamed, catching the way Ludwig relaxed under his smile. “I can think of nothing better. Let’s do it!”

.

“Where is he? Where is the omega my brother has brought home?”

The boisterous voice echoed through the tavern Feliciano and Ludwig were sitting inside, nursing drinks after a long, pleasant day of wandering around Versteckt. Despite the noise of the tavern, Feliciano still heard that voice loud and clear. It seemed to startle Ludwig so much that he started coughing. Feliciano patted his back, but stopped when that loud, accented voice shouted,

“_Ludwig_!”

“If I were you,” Ludwig said, wiping his mouth and glaring at his beer, as if the drink were to blame for his choking. “I would run.”

“Oh, goddess, why?” Feliciano asked with a smile on his face.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the little _runt_ who skipped out on work today.” Feliciano looked past Ludwig and was met by the sight of the palest man he had ever seen. White hair, gleaming red eyes, and a mouthful of sharp fangs, something Ludwig most certainly did not have. There was a streak of soot across his forehead, and his clothes were covered in it, too. “I knew something was up when you asked to take the day off cause, let’s face it, _you_ never ask for those! Do you know how embarrassing it is to have other people tell me that my little brother is running around with an omega? I’ll tell you how embarrassing it is! It’s-”

The man suddenly stopped speaking when his eyes fell on Feliciano, his mouth hanging open. This must be Gilbert, Ludwig’s older brother. He had mentioned him earlier today, leading to a conversation about their brothers. Not knowing what else to do, Feliciano waved.

Ludwig glared at his brother. “Gilbert, this is Feliciano. Feliciano, Gilbert. Honestly, what are you? You know better than to listen to idle gossip.”

“You, shut it.” Gilbert walked around Ludwig and stood on Feliciano’s other side. He leaned in close, and Feliciano leaned back until he was practically pressed against Ludwig. Could he see through the glamour? No one else seemed to notice he was a Faerie, but what if Gilbert did? Of all the people here… “Where the hell did you find such a pretty omega, Luddy?”

Ludwig growled, “For once, can you act your age?”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Ignore the sourpuss.” He stuck out his hand, grinning with those sharp teeth of his. “Name’s Gilbert Beilschmidt, nice to meet you! Now that I’m here, you can actually have some fun.”

Feliciano couldn’t help but smile. It was quite obvious these brothers were nothing like each other. He took Gilbert’s hand. “I’m Feliciano, hello! And it’s okay, really. I’ve been having a lot of fun with Ludwig!”

Gilbert laughed a little. “No need to lie. You won’t hurt his feelings.”

It sounded like Ludwig mumbled something into his beer glass. Feliciano laughed and gently nudged him. The smell of pine and moss greeted him as he did so, and he felt his heart jump at the happy scent.

Without much warning, music started to play. Feliciano swiveled his head around and found a small band in the corner of the tavern, playing shiny instruments. He could make out an accordion, a drum, several violins and the unmistakable bagpipe. Gilbert nodded to the woman holding the bagpipe.

“She’s from Bannockburn, that little town north of Camelot.” Feliciano watched as she tossed her curly red hair over a shoulder and began to play. “She sounds nice, huh?” “She does.”

Around them, people in the tavern began to dance. Some pulled others right out of their seats and linked their arms together. Dresses twirled, shoes tapped against the floor, and hands clapped together in time with the song. Some couples spun to the beat of their own drum, while others seemed to be in perfect sync with the music. No matter what beat these people were dancing to, they were all wild. It was a glorious sight, the way they moved and swayed, kicked and clapped. Yes, wild was the best way to describe it.

Gilbert took Feliciano’s hand, his eyes glittering madly. “Wanna dance?”

“Oh.” Did he want to dance with Gilbert? He glanced at Ludwig, who gave him a small, encouraging smile. Oh, what the hell. Feliciano squeezed Gilbert’s hand and smiled widely. “Sure!”

“Come on, then!” Gilbert pulled Feliciano from his stool and carried him off into the wild fray.

“Do you know this dance?” Feliciano asked over the loud music as they were swept away with the others.

Gilbert hooked an arm around his waist and held his other hand, extending them out together. He grinned, the low lighting like a fire in his eyes. “No!” he shouted. “Let’s just go along with it, can’t be too hard, right?” His laughter and grin were contagious. Feliciano found himself laughing as he and Gilbert spun around the room with the other dancers, kicking their feet together against the floor, poking each other when they stepped on each other’s toes, and taking turns spinning the other. It was wild and jovial, and Feliciano could not recall the last time he had participated in something so fun.

The song grew faster, louder, as it reached its obvious climax. Feliciano and Gilbert spun around, their legs almost tangling together from the quick pace of their movements. When the song drew to a close, Gilbert spun Feliciano, and then pulled him back into his chest. As the room exploded into claps and rowdy cheers, Feliciano and Gilbert bowed to each other with identical smiles on their faces.

“Thank you for the wonderful dance,” Gilbert said with sparkling eyes.

“No, thank you!” Feliciano laughed.

The woman with the red hair shouted something, and almost immediately the drum was struck. Another song was about to begin. Feliciano wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked toward the bar, where he had been sitting previously. “I’ll be right back!” he said, before slipping his way through the throng of people. When he made it to the bar, he smiled widely when his eyes landed on Ludwig. He rushed forward and grabbed Ludwig’s hands without thinking. “Come with me!”

“Wait a minute,” said Ludwig, looking a bit uncertain as he stumbled to his feet. “I’m not a dancer.”

“And neither am I, but it’s not about that right now!” He bounced on his feet as the music grew faster. “Trust me.”

Ludwig stared into Feliciano’s eyes, somehow drowning out the rowdy noise from inside the tavern until Feliciano could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. Ludwig squeezed his hand, and the noise came back. “Okay.”

Feliciano smiled gleefully and led Ludwig through the mass of dancing and clapping individuals. The night was filled with more dancing, and singing, and liveliness. Feliciano let himself be spun by handsome alphas and beautiful omegas, he tapped his feet against the floor with Gilbert, and felt a part of him melt when he heard Ludwig laugh. It was a wonderful night, but none of it compared to the feeling of Ludwig taking him in his arms and spinning him around in wild circles, so different to the way Gilbert had done. His hands were hot and rough, he could feel them beneath his clothes, but their touch was so gentle. He tipped his head back to laugh when Ludwig raised him over the throng of dancers, and when he was back on his feet, he immediately took Ludwig’s hands in his and pulled the alpha close to keep some semblance of dance going.

It had to be after midnight when they finally left, with a drunk and passed out Gilbert on Ludwig’s back. Feliciano could not stop humming one of the songs that had been played as he happily skipped beside Ludwig. The summer breeze did little to cool Feliciano’s heated skin, but he did not mind. It made him feel awake, and wired, despite his rather exhausted body.

“What a fun night!” Feliciano exclaimed. “Is it always like that?”

“Sometimes,” Ludwig replied with a small smile. “I usually do not participate, though I can’t say the same for this one.” He shifted Gilbert, and the alpha mumbled in his sleep. “I prefer to keep to myself, but I did have a lot of fun tonight.”

With great pleasure, Feliciano noticed Ludwig’s cheeks were red again. He felt his heart flutter. “Yes, I did too. I had a lot of fun with you, actually, all day.”

Ludwig said nothing but Feliciano swore he stepped just a little closer to him. They didn’t speak again until they were standing in front of a small cabin, basically identical to all the other houses. This must be their house. Feliciano bit down the urge to run in and explore.

“Thanks for seeing us home,” Ludwig said softly. He turned his gaze on Feliciano. “Will you be alright getting back?”

“I’ll be fine! If something happens, I can just run back here!”

Ludwig smiled softly, a look that Feliciano wanted to imprint in his mind for the rest of his days. Unexpectedly, he lent down and pressed his lips to the top of Feliciano’s head. Too stunned to move, Feliciano could only watch as Ludwig backed away with a red face. “I-I don’t know what came over me, I’m-”

“No, please don’t apologize for that!” Feliciano was blushing too. He had kissed Ludwig last night, but that had been a ‘thank you’ kiss, hadn’t it? He twisted his foot in the dirt. “I didn’t mind it.”

Ludwig just stared at him for a moment, with Gilbert snoring in his shoulder. Then he smiled a bit awkwardly and Feliciano’s heart skipped a beat. “I have to do some work tomorrow, but would you like to come over for dinner?”

Feliciano had to resist the urge to laugh. This alpha was too sweet. “I would love to.”

“G-great. Goodnight, then.” Feliciano watched Ludwig walk into his house, flinching with fond smile when he heard what sounded like someone slamming into a piece of furniture. Feliciano turned around and giggled. The stars seemed to shine brighter as he walked back to the inn, with thoughts of Ludwig keeping him company.

.

Three days had passed since the chaotic night at the tavern, and Feliciano had enjoyed each one of them. He no longer hid himself with his glamour, though it had initially been by accident. When he walked downstairs one morning, the innkeeper stared at him with a strange look on his face before just saying, “Huh. I haven’t seen a Faerie in years.” It was almost weird how no one really seemed to care about Feliciano being Fae. The Fae in the Orlon Forest seemed to hate shapeshifters. Whenever Feliciano misbehaved as a child, older omegas would say shapeshifters were coming to eat him. Lovino hated shifters too. He always spoke poorly of them, though Feliciano thought he went a bit overboard. His brother had never even _seen_ one before. But these people weren’t bothered at all by Feliciano’s Fae qualities. In fact, the farmers were delighted when he told them he could help with crops. His magic wasn’t strong, but he could grow any sort of crop, flower, or herb, as long as it was within the appropriate season.

The accepting nature of this shapeshifter village truly made Feliciano feel as if he had found a home. There were still things he found to be rather odd about Versteckt, like the bathtub and sinks. He was used to bathing in the nearest river with soaps that did not smell like anything. They were just supposed to make you clean, not change your scent! But the soap here, it smelled so good. Some smelled like mint, lavender, and roses, others smelled of peaches and pomegranates. The first time Feliciano took a bath here, he used up the entire bar of soap because it smelled so delightful. Just because he didn’t really understand it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it!

Then, of course, there was Ludwig. Every moment he spent with the alpha was almost magical. They had dinner together every night. Gilbert joined them too, and the three would eat outside since the evenings were so warm. They spoke of everything, from the traditions of their kind to the different constellations in the sky. Feliciano liked talking to both Beilschmidt brothers, but he really loved speaking with Ludwig. When Ludwig asked him for a walk in the field of wildflowers after they finished dinner, Feliciano happily agreed. It’s where they were now, slowly picking their way through the field of green as the stars began to emerge from their slumber. The two stopped when Versteckt was no more than a glowing dot in the distance. Feliciano sighed softly as he sat himself down in the warm grass.

“The stars are so bright out here!” he exclaimed, Ludwig sitting down beside him. “Oh, look! That one there, right next to the moon? That’s Mab!”

“Mab?” Ludwig said the name funny, like it was stuck in his mouth. “Like, the old Faerie Queen?”

“Ludwig, you know about her?” Feliciano asked, dropping his arm. “Gosh, I wish I could be as smart as you. You seem to know something about everything.”

He plucked a blade of grass and twirled it around his fingers. He seemed rather embarrassed by the statement. “Not really. My father used to give me lessons on kings and queens of the past, from all the kingdoms on Esmya. Mab was pretty important to Raetia so, naturally, I learned about her.”

“Ohh.”

“I don’t know everything about her though,” said Ludwig. “I would love to learn more.”

Feliciano smiled sheepishly at him, then looked back to the sky. “Mab is loved by all Faeries. She was the founder of Raetia, so naturally we all look to her for guidance in times of darkness. In fact, after she died, the Fae made her into a goddess, and she took her place in Esmya’s pantheon.”

Ludwig plucked at another blade. “What did she become the goddess of?”

“Spring and the hunt.” With a wry smile Ludwig’s way, he added, “Her sacred animal is the wolf. Legend says a she-wolf found her as a sick babe and nursed her to full health, and that’s why the wolf is one of the symbols of Raetia. Anyway, when she was queen, she did so much for the Fae, who had never had a place to call home before. She banished the goblins underground and she-” Feliciano broke off. Oh. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. “She ended up dispelling shapeshifters from Raetia, too.” Thus, starting centuries of bloodshed between the two species.

Ludwig was quiet, and Feliciano was a bit worried he had offended him. He was a shapeshifter, after all. “Times were very different back then,” Ludwig said softly. “Mistakes were made on both sides. It shouldn’t have caused such a big division.”

Relieved, Feliciano simply said, “I agree.” He looked back to the sky, where the stars were shining so brightly. He could stare at them all night. “She and her mate Oberon her were loved by all Faeries, so much that they began referring to her as the Flora Queen and Oberon as the Holly King. In almost all paintings of the two, Mab has roses in her hair and Oberon has a holly behind his ear.”

“Did Oberon become a god as well?” Ludwig asked softly.

Feliciano nodded, and pointed to the sky again. “See Mab? Right beneath her is Oberon. He is the god of winter and fertility, and like Mab, his sacred animal is the wolf.”

“Wow.” Ludwig tilted his head as he and Feliciano stared at the first rulers of Raetia, turned to stars and gods. He leaned back, resting on his elbows. Feliciano glanced from the sky to look at him, surprised Ludwig seemed so relaxed. He always seemed stiff and on guard. “That’s quite fascinating. To love your rulers so much you immortalize them further by turning them into deities.”

“That’s not all. While the rulers of Raetia are called the Faerie King or Faerie Queen, they are also called the Holly King and Flora Queen, to honor Queen Mab and King Oberon. At least they did, until…” He trailed off. Avalon made sure to destroy Mab’s bloodline, and now there was no Flora Queen or Holly King to sit upon Raetia’s throne. “Well, you know.”

“I never knew Raetia put their rulers on such pedestals.” Ludwig fiddled with the iron cross at his chest, and Feliciano tried not to stare. “Shapeshifters have never been bound by a monarchy before. They’ve always lived in tribes in the center of Esmya. Ishini used to be home to many shifters, but…” He too trailed off. Feliciano did not know much about the small place in the south of Esmya that was once called Ishini. It had been the first to fall after Avalon mobilized.

Ludwig did not continue the sentence. “The gods shapeshifters worship are the ones the Elves of Norge worship.” Esmya had one pantheon of gods, but different species worshipped different groups of them. “Odin, Freyja, Thor, Sunna, just to name a few. Each one took the form of a beast, and that is why we worship them, but they never walked this earth.” He looked at Feliciano as the wind rolled through, and Feliciano wondered if that’s why he felt a shiver go down his spine. “Perhaps that is why not many shapeshifters worship them anymore.”

Feliciano smiled sadly. “It is hard for anyone to stay completely faithful during times such as these.”

This conversation had become very heavy, he did not wish to stay on it. He pressed his fingers to the nearest flower, smiling a bit as it bent into his hand. Greenery loved the Fae. They did not speak as they listened to the wind sing within the valley, and the crickets hum in the forest. Occasionally, an animal cried somewhere in the distance. It was a peaceful summer’s night.

“I have been meaning to ask you this,” said Ludwig slowly. Feliciano looked at him, but Ludwig was staring at the sky. Mab and Oberon were shining in his eyes. “Please, don’t answer if you don’t want to, but why are you here? I-I am very glad to have met you, and I wouldn’t…” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed here forever, but you have never said your reason for being here. Not, well, not really.”

“Oh. Is that all?” Feliciano lay down on the grass, and ran a hand through his hair. There wouldn’t be any harm in telling Ludwig. “I live in the Orlon Forest, and please keep that a secret because I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but anyway I didn’t have many freedoms. We all live in fear, but we have to live in Avalon even though its king wants us dead. I don’t think I can tell you why we have to, but that isn’t important. Life in the Orlon Forest is all I have ever known. My brother and I were found as children by a Faerie named Antonio, and we were taken in and raised by Antonio’s mother. It is a nice place, filled with many nice Faeries, but… Life is so restricting. We can’t go there, we can’t do this, but we have to do that. As restricting as it was, I didn’t really mind it until many of the omegas started pushing me in the direction of a mate.”

Ludwig coughed. “You’re rather young.”

“I know! Most don’t get mates until they’re one hundred, and I’m not even half that!” Feliciano still felt strange when he thought of the older omegas speaking to him of the few alpha Faeries that were unmated in his village. “But Lovino had mated with Antonio, and he’s only one year older than me. No one even batted an eye, and I realized why: we’re all _expected_ to have a mate so we can have _children_, all in order to make sure the Fae population stays alive since, you know, so many died during Raetia’s fall. Do you know, I was the only unmated omega Faerie in my village? My friend Manon doesn’t have a mate either, but she isn’t really interested in alphas so she doesn’t count. Anyway, three of the unmated alphas in my village started trying to court me. They were so relentless, it’s like every time I left the healer’s hut, they were in my face! At first, I was kind of flattered, but it became so tiring, and so many of the older omegas kept trying to get me to mate with one of them! I mean, they were all nice, and I always figured I would find a mate down the line, but I didn’t want to be pressured into getting one! I wanted to fall in love, like Lovino did with Antonio. I wanted an alpha that loved me after they got to know me, you know? Not like those three who only wanted to show off. Besides, I could never fall in love while I was being treated as some prize. So I decided to leave. It was too suffocating, I just couldn’t stay there anymore. I wanted to explore some, go on my own little adventure, and meet amazing new people! At first, the three alphas all wanted to go with me, but they were too busy arguing over who would get to accompany me that they didn’t even notice I had left. And, well, here I am.”

Ludwig didn’t speak for a moment, and Feliciano hoped he hadn’t said too much. He had spoken rather quickly too. He was just about to apologize when Ludwig softly said, “I think you’re very brave.”

An embarrassing noise left Feliciano, but he couldn’t help it. That was the last thing he was expecting the alpha to say. “Um, elaborate?”

Ludwig almost smiled. “You were being pressured by your entire village, by the sound of it. It would have been easier to just go along with them, but you didn’t. You took your own path, and I find that to be rather admirable.” He blushed, and plucked another blade of grass. “And I think you’re brave.”

Feliciano was stunned. “Do you mean that? No, wait.” He sat up quickly and moved closer to Ludwig, who was sitting up as well. They almost knocked their foreheads together from their close proximity, but Feliciano didn’t back up. He stuck his pinkie finger in Ludwig’s face. Ludwig just stared at his finger, then looked at Feliciano in bewilderment. Feliciano rolled his eyes and grabbed one of Ludwig’s hands, and guided his pinkie finger to Feliciano’s. He curled his own around the alpha’s. “Now, tell me if you meant it.”

Ludwig looked at into Feliciano’s eyes and, unsure of what else to do, Feliciano smiled. Ludwig stared as if he were in some sort of trance, and quietly said, “I don’t see how anyone can not fall in love with you.”

The words were like a lightning bolt through Feliciano, zinging through his entire body and leaving him breathless. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Had Ludwig really said that? Ludwig seemed to realize what he said, and he quickly took his hand away, his face turning impossibly red as he shoved his hands into his lap and looked down. Stuttering, he loudly said, “I-I mean, yes! Yes, I meant what I said. I find you brave and very lovely. N-no, wait a minute… Um. You’re brave. Great, really, and I need to stop talking.”

Shaking his head in wonder, Feliciano leaned over and kissed Ludwig on the cheek for the second time since he had met the shifter. Ludwig stopped talking. Feliciano looked down at his lap, trying so very hard not to grin like a fool. Ludwig was so different than the three alphas in his village. He did not huff and pout when Feliciano spoke to Gilbert or other alphas in town. He did not hover around him, did not bark and growl when an alpha accidentally brushed against him in the tavern. He was not like the three alphas Feliciano had run into on the road, either. He never grabbed Feliciano, he never looked at him with leering eyes. He was a kind and good alpha, one who saw Feliciano as more than a prize to be won, or an omega to be conquered. Suddenly, Feliciano found himself growing very nervous.

“S-so your father taught you history?” he asked hurriedly, still blushing and smiling like an idiot.

“Uh, y-yes! His name was Aldrich Elias Beilschmidt…”

.

_Thirteen Years Ago_

“You’re leaving?” Feliciano could not hide his surprise, or his concern. The weather was beginning to take a turn from the decent autumn to the cruel winter. He did not like the thought of Ludwig traveling during this time, especially not so unexpectedly. “Where are you going?”

The morning sunlight was trickling into the cabin Feliciano shared with Ludwig and Gilbert, the place he had moved into after he told Ludwig he would be staying in Versteckt. He was currently standing in the foyer, watching Ludwig put his boots on. Ludwig walked over to him when he was finished, and placed a shaking hand on Feliciano’s cheek. They had been courting for nearly five years now, and while Ludwig still grew embarrassed about certain things, it was not nearly enough to cause him to tremble like he used to. This was new.

“There’s something I need to get in the mountains that border Norge and Raetia,” Ludwig said. Though his hand shook, his eyes were calm. Feliciano wanted to know what was going on. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“But you have to go now?” There was a whine in his voice that he really didn’t care about as he wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck. “And you waited until _now_ to tell me! You always tell me these sorts of things beforehand so we can go _together_-”

“I didn’t tell you because what I am getting is a surprise for you.” Ludwig leaned down to kiss his forehead. “And if I told you earlier, you would have berated me until I left. Don’t try telling me I’m wrong.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Feliciano closed his eyes when Ludwig kissed his pouting lips. These years he’s spent in Versteckt, with an alpha he undoubtedly loved, and with another alpha he could call a close friend, were some of the best in all his life. Every day, he awoke with butterflies in his stomach and a smile on his face, and he would race from his room to Ludwig’s and crawl into bed with him in an attempt to get the alpha to sleep the morning away with him. Only on a few occasions did they share a bed throughout the night; they didn’t want to move too fast since they were only courting.

Ludwig was the first to pull away, but he kept his arms around Feliciano and just looked at him with eyes that held so many emotions, Feliciano wanted to stand here in this foyer for the whole morning and pick apart each of them. Unfortunately that was not going to happen. “I will be back in one month.”

“One whole month?” Feliciano sighed softly, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “Okay, but I still wish you would have told me so I could have stitched you some warmer clothes. Promise me the next time you do something like this, you tell me beforehand!” He stuck out his pinkie finger.

Ludwig raised his own and wrapped it around Feliciano’s with a smile on his face. As per usual, his smile made Feliciano’s head spin. “I promise.” They dropped their hands and, after staring at Feliciano for a moment longer, Ludwig stepped back. “I will see you soon.”

“Be careful, please.”

“Of course, _Liebling_.” Ludwig opened the door and quietly left.

Feliciano shuddered, from the cold morning wind and from that word. _Liebling_. It was not a word of the common tongue, the language spoken by everyone who lived in Esmya. It was of shapeshifter language, that rough and brutal speech Feliciano sometimes heard Ludwig and Gilbert talk in. It was nothing like the operatic language that the Fae had, now simply called the Old Language. He remembered Antonio sweeping into their shared hut and holding Lovino close as he called him such sweet names in the Old Language. They usually made Lovino blush and scowl, but when he didn’t think anyone was looking, he would smile. Feliciano understood why his brother smiled from mere words. When Ludwig called him a name in his language, it made his heart race and his cheeks warm. There was something so special and meaningful about it, especially since Ludwig hardly ever called him by an endearment in any language. Always Feliciano. Not that he minded, he found it sweet that Ludwig loved saying his name.

He walked away from the foyer, into the kitchen, and up to the window. Ludwig was talking to Gilbert outside, who clapped him on the back and said something with a huge smile on his face. What could make Gilbert so happy? Feliciano stepped back and headed into his little room, a once empty room Ludwig and Gilbert had no use for. One whole month, Ludwig would be gone, getting _something_ from the mountains that separated Norge and Raetia. Versteckt was located just west of the old Avalon, in the conquered territory Avalon took from Clans and tribes. It might even take Ludwig longer than a month. With a sigh, Feliciano left his own little room and wandered into Ludwig’s. Every room was small in their cabin, but Feliciano didn’t mind. It was his home. He snagged one of Ludwig’s heavy coats and slipped it on, happy to be wrapped in the scent of the one he loved.

“You better not die,” he murmured with a tiny smile. “Not before I ask you to be my mate.”

The month dragged on. Feliciano was quite sure it was the longest month of his life. He spent his days working in the fields, harvesting autumn crops and planting winter seeds. He tried to paint, but his mind usually strayed too far for him to truly concentrate. He kept Gilbert company in the armory, partly because it was always warm inside but mostly because he wanted someone to talk to. He knew Gilbert knew why Ludwig left, but every time he tried to get an answer, Gilbert asked for help with something or another and Feliciano would become distracted. It was during one of these days, after Feliciano had finished his harvesting duties, that he found himself in the armory, sitting on one of the desks and watching Gilbert as he hammered away at a sword.

Feliciano loved Gilbert like a brother; the alpha was fun and easy to talk to talk, but there were some things Feliciano just did not understand about him. One of them was his lack of a mate. Feliciano had seen many omegas flirt with Gilbert, from handsome brunet men to gorgeous blonde women. Yet he turned them all down, no matter how beautiful they were. Really, the only two people he seemed close to were Feliciano and Ludwig.

Without thinking, Feliciano said, “Why don’t you have a mate?”

The hammer struck a bit too hard, and a small curse followed. Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. “That’s, by far, the most random thing you have ever said.” Feeling a bit silly, Feliciano shrugged. “I’m just curious. I mean, I’ve been thinking about mates recently-”

“Why?” Did Gilbert sound panicked?

“No reason. Well, there is a reason, but we’re not talking about me right now. I was asking about you. Why don’t you have a mate, Gilbert? Are you not into fellow shapeshifters?”

Gilbert laughed. Whatever that slight panic had been was gone now. He placed his hammer on the table and spun around on his stool, until he was facing Feliciano. He spread his hands in a “I’m not too sure” gesture. “Nah, it’s not that.” He paused, and looked at the ceiling. He stared at it for a long time as Feliciano impatiently tapped his finger against the table. Finally, he shrugged. “Having a mate is a lot of responsibility. Making sure they’re happy, getting them gifts, talking about kids if they’re an omega- it’s just a lot and I don’t think it’s for me. Don’t get me wrong, what you and Lud have is awesome, you guys honestly make me believe there really is something called love in this world and you aren’t even mates yet!” Feliciano was shocked by that statement. “But that’s you and him, with your own special bond. It’s nice, but I don’t want that. What I want is an adventure.” His red eyes gleamed with a strange sort of wildness. In these moments, Feliciano wondered why the half-shapeshifter seemed that much more animalistic than his full shapeshifting brother. “I don’t want someone coming up to me and asking for a walk in the orchard, or presenting me with some flowers, or some romantic shit like that. If I’m going to have a mate, they’re going to tell me we’re going on an adventure across Esmya together. They’re not gonna be intimidated by the mountains, or the dark, or the unknown; they’re going to walk straight through it with a smile on their face. I don’t want a peaceful and calm life with my mate, I want chaos and laughter as we sit under the stars and drink the strongest liquor we can find.”

Gilbert looked almost as stunned as Feliciano when he was finished, and he chuckled sheepishly. “Damn, I’ve never said any of that out loud before. Maybe I went a bit overboard.”

“No!” Feliciano jumped off of the desk with excitement in his chest. “That’s perfect! I can’t imagine you with anyone else, Gil!”

Gilbert raised his eyebrows as he smirked. “Glad my imaginary mate has been approved by you, Feli.”

“Imaginary? They’re out there, I know they are! You just have to look for them, don’t you want to?”

He laughed as he stood up and twirled over to Feliciano. “If they really are out there, they’ll find me. They’ll get down on one knee, like this.” Gilbert took Feliciano’s hand and sank to one knee. He put his other hand to his forehead. “And then they’ll say, Oh, Gilbert, let’s go on a grand adventure where we’ll end up as heroes! We’ll save Esmya, and for the rest of history, people will tell stories of our brave and selfless strife! Oh, yes, how grand we shall be!”

Laughter filled Feliciano as Gilbert stood and spun him around. “And then, after we’ve saved Esmya, we’ll become pirates! We’ll score the oceans, finding so much gold that our ship will almost sink from it! Oh, we’ll write letters to you and Ludwig, don’t you worry, before we just sail off into the mist, looking for some trouble. We’ll fight bandits, and fellow pirates, until we’re the rulers of the sea. Our adventures become nothing more than legends, and people will wonder if we ever even existed.” He let go of Feliciano and bowed dramatically. “Thus concluding the epic love story of Gilbert Beilschmidt and Imaginary Mate.”

Feliciano clapped. “It sounds like a wonderful tale.”

“Why, thank you!” Gilbert wiped the sweat from his brow and sat on his stool. He swiveled back around, so his back was to Feliciano now. In a tone that was no longer elated, he said, “But I can’t see any of this actually happening, and I wouldn’t be bothered if it never did. I’m happy here, with my brothers. I don’t need some new bitch or bastard ruining all our fun.”

For once, Feliciano had no idea what to say. Never before had Gilbert referred to him as a brother. It touched him in a way that was very similar to the first time _Antonio_ called him brother, so long ago. He moved without thinking until he was draping his arms around the alpha’s back and pressing a loving, familial kiss to Gilbert’s cheek. “If they make you happy, Gilbert, they won’t ruin our fun. They’ll just join it.”

.

It was after midnight when Ludwig came home. Feliciano was curled in his bed, not his own, asleep. He woke to strong arms slipping around his waist and a hard chest to his back. Their clothes were the only things separating them. His eyes were still closed as he smiled and snuggled into the chilled body behind him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Ludwig murmured beside his ear.

“I’m glad you did,” he whispered. He turned his head and blindly kissed Ludwig’s chin. The prickly feeling of stubble greeted him. “Welcome home.”

He could feel Ludwig smile against his head, and then a blanket was lifted over them, protecting them from the world outside. A pinkie finger curled around Feliciano’s, cold, and calloused, and comforting. “I’m home, Feliciano.”

.

The next day was surprisingly warm, a perfect day to stroll through the fields of wildflowers. Feliciano led Ludwig through the colorful field, through the bright splashes of winter flowers waving in the soft wind. His basket had a few flowers inside of it, along with the most precious thing he currently owned. Later today, he would ask Ludwig, in this very field, to be his mate. He was nervous, so he kept speaking of the flowers they were passing, answering Ludwig’s questions on the symbolism of some.

“W-what about edelweiss?” asked Ludwig.

Feliciano paused. It wasn’t a flower that grew around here; in fact, Feliciano had never even seen one before. “You told me about that one. Let’s see… it’s a flower that grows on the mountains that border Norge and Raetia. Alpha shapeshifters climb the mountains to get the edelweiss as a sign of mateship for their omegas, right?” _Mountains that border Norge and Raetia_. Feliciano stiffened, miffed by his own words. Ludwig had just returned from those very mountains, claiming he had gone there to retrieve a gift for Feliciano. No, he wasn’t thinking straight. He tried to act nonchalant as he turned around. “You’re certainly asking a lot of questions about…”

He just stopped talking. Because Ludwig was standing behind him, holding a simple white flower shaped like a fallen star. The petals had a strange, fuzzy look to them, so different and unique compared to the billions of other flowers Feliciano had grown himself. This flower would always be his favorite, no matter how much time passed. This flower would forever be _his_ flower. And resting in the center of his gorgeous, perfect, singular flower was a golden ring. It shimmered in the sunlight, as if were trying to gather all of the light in the world and give it to the person it was meant for. Ludwig’s hand was shaking. His gentle hand that could do no harm, the one that held Feliciano’s own and brushed his tears away; that baked delicious sweets and crafted magnificent weapons. The one that would never let him go, no matter how much time passed. This… this could not be happening.

“You’re right about the edelweiss,” Ludwig murmured softly.

Feliciano could only stare at the edelweiss and the hand that held it. Tears stung his eyes as he looked up at Ludwig, at this sweet and kind alpha who steadied him, calmed him, and loved him. He dropped his basket, and walked closer. He held Ludwig’s wrist in both of his hands, and ran his thumbs over the soft skin. “I’m dreaming.”

“No.” Ludwig’s own eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes that rivaled the sky on a winter day, filled with tears, a sight Feliciano has rarely seen. “This is real. I’m really asking you, Feliciano.” With his free hand, Ludwig brushed his fingers over Feliciano’s cheek. “I’m asking you, my beautiful Feliciano, to be my mate.”

Ludwig’s voice wavered with his nerves, but Feliciano could still hear the determination, the gentleness, and the hopefulness. He had no need to be scared. Feliciano carefully took the edelweiss and stared at it, the flower his lovely Ludwig had climbed a mountain for. Hot tears traveled down his cheeks as he picked up the ring next. He wondered if Ludwig had crafted it himself. Based on the look in his eyes, he probably had. Oh. Why was he taking so long to answer? He could not hold himself back as he threw himself at his beloved, his forever. “Of course I’ll be your mate!”

It did not take long for Ludwig to hold his waist and lift him in the air, and spin him around in circles as their lips slid together in a perfect fit with breathless laughter spilling from them. Their tears mingled together, dripping onto each other’s cheeks until Feliciano was not sure which tears belonged to who. It didn’t matter, nothing did except for Ludwig, and this flower, and this ring, and the colorful future ahead of them. Feliciano did not even feel the ground at his feet when Ludwig lowered him, and carefully took the edelweiss back. And then, he took Feliciano’s hand, and slowly slipped the golden ring onto his finger. Then he pushed Feliciano’s hair back and rested the flower right behind his pointed ear. It was not possible for someone to be this happy. Feliciano was going to burst, right here, in this magical field with his glorious alpha beside him.

Ludwig just stared at him for a moment with tears slipping from bright eyes. They stared at each other a lot. Almost from the moment they met, they could not keep their eyes from wandering to the other. It was never just an infatuation, it was never because Ludwig was the most handsome and beautiful person he has ever seen. It was his kind soul, and gentle hands, and cute quirks. His eyes, his face, everything about him made Feliciano believe he was home. The Orlon Forest, the place his family resided within, could no longer be considered home. How could it, when his true home, his one and only, was right here?

Finally, Ludwig spoke, and though the words were quiet they rattled Feliciano’s insides. “I love you.”

Feliciano gasped, and pressed his hands to Ludwig’s damp cheeks. He tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming, like the ones on his own face. “And I love you. I love you so much, Ludwig.”

Ludwig wrapped his arms around him and pulled him impossibly close, chest against chest. Heart against heart. It was too much. It was too perfect, oh but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, they needed to be closer. For some odd reason, it was in this moment that he remembered the item in his basket. Very begrudgingly, Feliciano pulled away from Ludwig’s hold and smiled.

“You aren’t going to believe this, but I… I have something for you too.” Ludwig raised his eyebrows in surprise as Feliciano kneeled down by his basket and rifled through the flowers and herbs until he found it. It was a simple wooden box, painted midnight blue with white orbs made to look like stars. It should have been one of the easiest things to paint, but it was the hardest thing he had ever done. He stood up and presented it to Ludwig. “I was going to ask you later today, before we went home. But,” he laughed, cried, shouted, it did not matter. “You beat me to it.”

The shaking resumed as Ludwig took the box from him, and with trembling fingers, he opened it. The inside was painted with stars, too, but it did not matter what the inside looked like. All that mattered was the black ring within. Ludwig picked it up, and stared at it, as if he could not believe it. “You…”

“I bought it at the market, months ago. At first it was going to be gold, but I didn’t want you to worry about getting the gold dirty. Then I thought silver, but silver and Faeries don’t really mix. So then I saw this, and the vendor said it was made from a material that doesn’t get scratched and that is heat resistant, so you don’t have to worry about messing it up while you’re working!” Feliciano could not stop talking. “And- and the box! It’s like the universe because, Ludwig, you _are_ my universe.”

“And…” Ludwig looked like he was about to burst into tears. “You are mine.”

Feliciano took the ring from him and slipped it onto his finger, where it rested against his knuckle. Feliciano pressed his hand against Ludwig’s, and Ludwig pressed his forehead against Feliciano’s. Their rings shone in the sun and their eyes filled with tears, before Ludwig picked Feliciano up again and they laughed. And in this sun drenched field of wildflowers, Feliciano wrapped his legs around Ludwig’s waist, ran his fingers through Ludwig’s hair, and leant down to whisper in his ear. “Say my name?”

Ludwig held him closer. “Feliciano Beilschmidt.”

Feliciano kissed him, hard and loving. “I love it.”

“And I love _you_.”

.

Later that day, after the sun had slipped behind the mountains and the moon had risen high in the sky, their small cabin was empty save for Ludwig and Feliciano. Their clothes were on the floor, no longer keeping them separated. Feliciano straddled Ludwig’s waist, smiling down at his beloved with just a hint of anxiety in his heart. They had never done this before. Even during Feliciano’s yearly heats and Ludwig’s ruts, they kept to themselves because they were taking things slow. It was custom to wait. There would be time for it, and that time was now.

Feliciano rested a hand against Ludwig’s chest, the moonlight filtering in from the window turning his body silver. His body was chiseled in muscle, and his chest was hard with it. Feliciano trailed his fingers across it, pausing at the erratically thumping heart. It was beating so fast, Feliciano swore he could hear it. They were both so tentative to coninue. They were both doing this for the first time, this final step to becoming mates, becoming _one_.

Ludwig placed his own hand against Feliciano’s stomach, and trailed it up, over his chest and neck, until it cupped his cheek. Shivers ran down Feliciano’s body, and he tilted his head into Ludwig’s palm. He rested his own hand against Ludwig’s, smiling softly down at him. “You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“I know,” Ludwig murmured.

Feliciano kissed the palm of Ludwig’s trembling hand. “Are you nervous?”

The color red bloomed on Ludwig’s cheeks, even the top of his chest seemed to be dyed in scarlet. Feliciano bit his lip to keep from laughing at how cute the other was. It would only embarrass Ludwig. “I think I’m supposed to be,” he replied quietly. “Are you?”

Feliciano moved Ludwig’s hand from his cheek to his chest, directly over his rapidly beating heart. He nodded even though he had already given his answer to Ludwig. They were both so nervous, but Feliciano trusted Ludwig with his life. This is what they wanted, what they both wanted. Their rings clinked against the other as Feliciano laced their fingers together. Ludwig rested his strong, warm hand on Feliciano’s hip, guiding him up, further yet, until Feliciano let out a shuddering breath and lowered himself down.

The world seemed to still as the moon began its descent back down, as the village around them slumbered. Time did not matter, not with the many other things they were able to think about now. There was no telling how long they moved, or how often Ludwig pulled him down to kiss him, or when Feliciano found himself on his back and wrapped his arms around Ludwig to keep him close, closer, yes just like this. The stars could have fallen from the sky, sending their surroundings into a black oblivion, and it would not have mattered. Nothing could have shattered the perfect world Ludwig and Feliciano crafted for themselves in this small room, with their skin sliding against each other’s, and their breath mingling, and everything was so _wonderful_. Even when everything sharpened with such an intense focus, Feliciano and Ludwig stayed in their own universe, laying in their bed of blankets and love. Feliciano curled closer into Ludwig, humming in sleepy content as his alpha draped fluffy blankets over his sweat dampened skin and then held him against his chest, and it was not long before Feliciano fell asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, aching and sore, he peeked his head up and found Ludwig looking down at him. He wriggled further along the bed, until he was resting against the pillows instead of his mate’s- oh, those two words were exquisite- chest. He leaned over and kissed Ludwig’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

Ludwig didn’t reply immediately, he just looked at Feliciano. It was strange for Feliciano to feel so exposed now, after what they had done last night. Ignoring the feeling, he wrapped his arms around Ludwig. “Speechless?” he teased.

A contented sigh sounded beside Feliciano’s ear, and he shivered. “It just feels like a dream.”

Feliciano leaned back, taking in the sight of Ludwig’s blond hair falling into his eyes. He was so beautiful. He extended his pinkie finger between their chests. “If it’s a dream, let’s not wake up.”

Ludwig’s finger curled around his own. “Okay,” he said with a sleepy smile.

Of course Ludwig would be tired. After the first night, it was custom for alphas to lay awake and watch over their omega as they sleep. They were not to get up until the omega awoke. Some omegas in the Orlon Forest found the custom to be old and strange, but Feliciano always thought it to be romantic. He leaned up and kissed Ludwig on the lips.

“You can go to sleep now,” said Feliciano as he rested back against the bed. “I’ll watch over you this time!”

Ludwig laughed, deep and filled with exhaustion. He said nothing as he moved down the bed and placed his head against Feliciano’s chest. Their legs were tangled together, and their pinkie fingers were still curled around each other’s. They were still, in some ways, physically connected. Feliciano kissed the top of Ludwig’s head as he wrapped an arm around his beloved’s waist. He thought that was that until he heard the deep rumble of Ludwig’s voice.

“We never said any sort of vows.” 

Vows. That’s right. “Do you want to go first?”

Ludwig’s finger tightened around his own. He did not turn his head, but there was a faint kiss against Feliciano’s chest. “I only have one.” Another kiss to his chest. “I vow, Feliciano, that I will always be there to protect you. I will be your sword and your shield, whenever you need me. You never have to be afraid when I’m beside you; I will always make sure you’re safe.” He brought their hands to his lips and kissed Feliciano’s. “I promise you.”

Tears flooded Feliciano’s vision at the words of valor. He vaguely remembered Ludwig telling him before that his ancestors used to personally defend kings of old. He nudged Ludwig, and blue eyes blinked up at him beneath blond lashes. “Like your ancestors? Only, I suppose, I would be a queen since I am an omega.”

Ludwig’s eyes brightened, as did his cheeks. “If you want to see it that way, then I guess…”

Laughter bubbled inside Feliciano, and he could not stop himself from kissing Ludwig. “Okay, okay. My turn!” Ludwig rested against his chest again as Feliciano tried to get his thoughts in order. “I vow, Ludwig, that I will always follow you. No matter if you end up going to the Underworld itself, I will follow you. If you’re trapped inside, I will find you and I will free you. I will, I promise you I will.”

He kissed Ludwig’s hand this time before they rested against his chest, their pinkie fingers still entwined. They did not need to keep speaking, their vows had been made. Feliciano focused on humming a soft song to lull his alpha, his gorgeous, and strong, and wonderful mate, to sleep.

_Nine Years Ago_

“What’s going on?” Feliciano pressed himself further into Ludwig’s side, all of his exhaustion drained away like someone had dumped ice cold water over him. He did not understand why they had all be ushered out of their houses in the middle of the night, dressed in their pajamas with sleep still in their eyes. He did not know why there were soldiers dressed in black holding torches and waving Avalon’s flag in the air. He did not want to know why his instincts were telling him to _run_. “Ludwig?”

Ludwig narrowed his eyes at the soldiers before them, and then he ducked his head to kiss Feliciano’s head. “I’m not sure, but you’re going to be fine.” He laced his pinkie finger around Feliciano’s and squeezed it. “They might be doing some sort of roll call.”

“Whatever the fuck they’re doing,” Gilbert snarled quietly from Feliciano’s other side. “They need to get the hell on with it. It’s the middle of the night.”

That was true. Feliciano flinched when he heard the cries of several babies pierce the air. Beside them, a young girl holding a toy made of straw lifted her arms above her head. “Daddy,” she yawned. An alpha woman leaned down and picked up the little girl, cooing softly in her ear as the child wrapped her stubby arms around her father’s neck. Unconsciously, Feliciano put his hand to his stomach. His own child was inside of him, unbeknownst to their father and uncle. He was just about to tell Ludwig the news before they were ushered outside by these soldiers.

_‘Please, Mab. Let this be over quickly.’_

Feliciano looked at the soldiers again, only to find one smirking at him. The alpha licked his lips as his sharp eyes gleamed. A pool of discomfort dropped in Feliciano’s stomach, and he quickly looked away. He was thankful he remembered to wrap the black fabric around his head to hide his ears. Ludwig and Gilbert snarled, baring their teeth at the one soldier. A rush of love flooded Feliciano. He was lucky to have two alphas who cared about him so much.

One of the alpha soldiers sitting atop a horse cleared his throat as Avalon’s red flag whipped in the wind behind him. “You have been chosen by King Alexander himself to become a part of his ever growing, glorious army! Those who can turn into predators, step forward!”

His words were loud and clear, but they did not make sense to Feliciano. Army? Predators? No, Ludwig was a predator. Gilbert suddenly took Feliciano’s hand, the one on his stomach, and gripped it tightly. Feliciano did not let go of Ludwig. Not a single shifter stepped forward. Feliciano heard Gilbert inhale, but Ludwig shot him a glare, and the inhale turned into an exhale. Feliciano squeezed their hands, terrified. Something felt very wrong.

Somewhere toward the front of the crowd, an alpha woman spat on the ground, right by a soldier’s boot. “Bullshit. We ain’t a part of Avalon, and we ain’t gonna join your fucking army. We are bound by no kingdom!” A few shouted in agreement. Ludwig began moving backwards, slowly, with his pinkie finger still tied around Feliciano’s. Feliciano did the same, gently tugging Gilbert with him. The three froze when one of the soldiers shot forward and pulled a sword from his person with the speed of a snake. In an instant, the woman’s head was rolling on the ground. Before her body even hit the ground, the soldiers were advancing on them.

Torches were thrown to the houses, and they instantly burst into flames. They were cabins made of wood in close proximity of each other. The entire village would be ash in no time. Screams filled the air as soldiers forcefully pulled children away from parents, and omegas from alphas. The blood roared in Feliciano’s ears. He could not move, he was frozen as he watched shapeshifters he had grown to love fall to the ground. Children were crying, mates were screaming, and Feliciano could do nothing as he watched hell erupt on earth.

Someone pushed him, and he fell into Gilbert’s chest. It took him a moment to realize Ludwig had done it. His mouth was moving, he seemed to be speaking quickly and urgently, but Feliciano could not understand him.

“Take Feliciano and get out of here!”

The words smacked Feliciano in the face, and they twisted his heart, but Ludwig kept talking. “You have to go now, while there are too many things going on. No one will notice if you run!”

Feliciano tore his hand from Gilbert’s and grabbed Ludwig’s arms. How could his mate say something like that? “No!”

Gilbert snarled right over him. “Like hell we’re doing that. You’re coming with us!”

More screams, more shouting, more animalistic noises. Someone was yelling “no no no” over and over again. It was in Feliciano’s head, playing like a song. He needed to stop focusing on it. Somewhere behind them in their village, a building fell to the ground. It could be their house.

“It will be too noticeable if there are three of us,” Ludwig exclaimed in a hushed voice. “Look at me, I’m obviously a predator. _I’m_ their target, not you two. They will keep hunting me, and that means they will keep hunting the two of you. I can’t have that, damnit!” Feliciano flinched. Ludwig never swore. “Now go. I’ll distract them but you two have to run.”

Feliciano’s head was spinning. He was with child, _Ludwig’s son or daughter was inside of him_. “I can’t leave you!” he shouted. “Ludwig, I need-”

“Drop the hero shit, Ludwig! Come on! You’re coming with us!” Gilbert’s voice was bordering on hysterical.

Ludwig stared at them. First at his brother, then at Feliciano. Feliciano could feel something begin to break inside of him. In some deep part of him, something that was made of glass was beginning to crack. His mate’s vow rang in his head; he would protect Feliciano from anything. That was cruel. That was unfair. He did not notice the tears in his eyes.

“Gilbert,” Ludwig whispered, unsheathing his blade. His sword had a specific name, but Feliciano forgot it. He should have listened better. He should have listened to every gods damn word Ludwig had ever said. “If these soldiers find a Fae omega here, they will not kill him.” His blue eyes blazed with something Feliciano had never seen in his mate. Fear. Anguish. Horror. He spoke slowly. “Do you understand what they would do to my mate?”

_They could do anything to him as long as Ludwig stayed. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care._

Feliciano choked back on a sob as Gilbert suddenly gripped Feliciano’s arms and pulled him back. He did not know if he were screaming or whispering. No, stop. Let go. Let go, let go, Ludwig Ludwig Ludwig...

Ludwig looked from Gilbert to Feliciano. The softest smile came to his face, as the fire burned around them. He didn’t need to do this. So what if they would be hunted? Ludwig would still be with them. Tears dripped to the ground as Feliciano struggled against Gilbert’s hold. “Ludwig, _please_. Please you have to come with us._Please_.”

Gilbert whispered, “_Bruder… Nein_.”

“I love you, Feliciano.” Feliciano choked. Ludwig didn’t need to say those words, he didn’t need to say it with such finality. Why did he look so calm. Why wasn’t he running. Why why why why did he have to be so good? Ludwig’s gentle blue eyes flicked back up to Gilbert, and they seemed to glow for a moment. “Take care of him, brother.”

And then Ludwig turned around and threw himself into the fighting, drawing the attention of several soldiers. He did not stay in his human for long. He dug his sword into one soldier and then he shifted into his dire wolf, and he howled. It drew the attention of most of the soldiers who were not busy with others. Ludwig was the ultimate predator here. He was the one the soldiers wanted. Hot, unfamiliar rage boiled in Feliciano’s bloodstream. He needed to protect his mate. He would not let those horrible soldiers harm his precious, gentle, perfect, good, wonderful, loving Ludwig. He kicked, he screamed, but Gilbert was pulling him back.

“NO! Ludwig! Ludwig, come back! LUDWIG!” He looked up as the smoke burned his eyes and cut off his air. “Gilbert, you have to let me…” But he could not finish the sentence. Gilbert’s fangs were gritted as tears, so many tears, streamed from his red eyes. His face was contorted in so much pain, like he had just been scorched by the fire. Feliciano was not the only one hurt by Ludwig’s absence.

Things moved quickly after that. The hot air and smoke choked Feliciano as he and Gilbert climbed the stairs that led out of Versteckt and up to the rise of the mountains. They did not stop until they made it to the top, the place where Feliciano had first seen this beautiful village with Ludwig at his side. Now it was engulfed in flame, with bodies littered all over the ground. There were wagons filled with people, adults and children, tied in chains. The chains must be infused with ash since not a single person made a move to shift. Feliciano could make out some of the farmers who he had worked with, and there were some of the children who always asked Ludwig and Gilbert for piggy back rides. Feliciano looked away, and scanned the ground, looking for his one and only, his forever. There he was, back in his human form with his blade in hand. And then… then he was on his knees. The piece of glass inside of Feliciano exploded as the soldier pushed his sword into Ludwig’s chest, right through him.

Ludwig died. Ludwig was dead. No one could survive that. No one, not even Ludwig. Ludwig, his mate, his glorious and noble mate. He threw himself away just to save his mate and brother, just so they wouldn’t be hunted. No. No. He couldn’t… couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t feel Gilbert’s hands hauling him up and pulling him away. Couldn’t hear the cries and curses tumbling from Gilbert’s mouth. Couldn’t taste the sweat and tears dripping into his mouth. He did not make a single sound as he followed Gilbert, into the dark and hot night. He looked up, through the treetops and toward the sky. It was filled with stars.

He remembered running through the forest as a child, laughing with Lovino as Antonio chased them. Antonio had been making weird noises as he hobbled around, trying to catch them. Lovino pulled him into a bush and they stayed there, trying not to giggle, and then Antonio had burst inside and swooped them both in his arms. It had been a hot day, and the sweat had stuck to Feliciano’s skin just like this. Only this time he was not running from a friend, he was running from evil alphas who had killed his mate.

How long had they been running? Feliciano did not know. He did not take in any of the landmarks they had passed, did not feel the change of a dirt trail to a trail in the forest. He felt nothing. Those shattered pieces inside of him had not moved, they were right there, right in his chest, dull and lifeless. He wanted to disappear.

Gilbert stopped, and Feliciano did too. They stood there, in the middle of the forest, and just breathed. They were caked in sweat. Gilbert had dirt on him, and Feliciano wondered if he did too. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered because Ludwig was dead.

Something black fell into his eyes. He pulled it away, surprised to see the black fabric. It must have come loose as they ran through the mountains. There was something incredibly ironic about this. He had been wearing a similar piece of fabric the same day he met Ludwig. It was black, just like this one. It hid him from others. He only wore this now to cover his ears from strangers. But now… Now…

Feliciano’s shoulders shook as he started to laugh. He didn’t even try to stop himself. Gilbert must find him insane. “It’s, it’s so funny!” he gasped out. “I pretended to have a dead mate in the past to keep alphas off my back. But now… now I don’t have to pretend anymore! Now I can wear this because my mate is actually dead!”

He gripped the fabric as he kept laughing. His lungs ached from the force of it. Tears were springing from his eyes, mingling with the sweat on his face. It was just funny. Everything was so funny. Feliciano dropped the fabric and covered his mouth. He sank to his knees and vomited. He couldn’t stop. He felt like his insides were being emptied right in front of him, everything from inside of him was just coming out. His lungs, his ribs, his heart and soul. All of it was leaving him. 

“Feli,” Gilbert whispered. “Oh, Feli.” And then he was stumbling away and crouching into a bush. The sounds of retching drifted into Feliciano’s ears and it only made him his stomach heave again.

He did not stop until his body was empty, depleted of everything. He sank to the ground, gasping and coughing with a cramping stomach. “Ludwig,” he whispered. “You left me.”

Gilbert collapsed to the ground. Feliciano did not have the energy to look over as the alpha crawled to his side and lay beside him, gasping and shaking. They were both shaking. It was so hot, but they were shaking like it was winter. Feliciano spluttered, the scene replaying in his mind over and over again. A sword through the chest, protruding from the back. All it had taken was one blade, and snap. Ludwig was dead.

“Ludwig,” he whispered again. Hot tears fell against his cheeks. “Ludwig. Ludwig.”

The stars were silent as Feliciano and Gilbert lay in the forest, crying and whispering one name over and over again, as if that would bring him back.

_Three weeks later; The Orlon Forest_

Someone was stroking his hair. It must be Ludwig, he loved to run his fingers through Feliciano’s hair in the morning. He smiled softly as he turned over in his bed, reaching for the warm body of his mate.

“Ludwig?”

A sigh. “No, Feli.”

Ludwig never called him Feli. Feliciano pried his eyes open, and immediately regretted it. He was so dizzy. He pressed a hand to his head. Oh, it hurt. Once again, he opened his eyes to find the person who was touching him. His head rolled to the side as he blinked, taking in the light spilling in from somewhere. Above, or from a doorway? Ah, it didn’t matter.

“Careful, Feli.” Hands were on his shoulders. He hadn’t even been aware he was sitting up.

Feliciano stared at the person sitting next to him. Lovino. Lovino? Why was Lovino… Oh. Right. He was back in the Orlon Forest. He hung his head as that familiar empty despair filled his chest once again. His brother ran his hands over his shoulders once more and then he was touching his hair again. Feliciano wanted to slap his hands away, but he did not have the energy. He could barely even blink. His stomach jumped, and he had no choice but to move his hands to his mouth.

Immediately, Lovino stood and scooped a wooden bowl from the floor, and shoved it under Feliciano’s mouth. When he was finished, Lovino put the bowl down and sat back on the bed. Feliciano felt weightless as he rested his head against his brother’s chest. He closed his eyes when Lovino wrapped an arm around him. “I didn’t want you sleeping the day away again, that’s why I woke you.”

“Yeah.” Feliciano liked sleeping these days. He was so weak, he could not even get out of bed. “I’m thirsty.”

“I know. Antonio’s-”

He broke off when someone walked into the room, the noise causing Feliciano to open his eyes. Antonio stood on the other side of his bed with a bowl in his hands. He smiled brightly, always so brightly. “Hey, there, Feli. I’ve got your water right here.”

Feliciano dazedly reached for it. He did not mind the water dripping down his neck as he drank his fill. It tasted like mud. Then again, everything tasted like mud now. Antonio took the bowl when he was finished and set it on the ground. In no time, the alpha was lying beside Feliciano with an arm around his shoulders. When Feliciano was younger, he would run to Antonio after having a nightmare. Antonio would get up without complaint and stomp into Feliciano’s room. He waved a stick around, shouting that the monsters better run or they would feel his wrath. Then he would lay in Feliciano’s bed and hold him until he fell asleep. He had always viewed Antonio like his big brother, able to scare away even the toughest of monsters. He wondered what Antonio would have down against those soldiers in black. He felt queasy again.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?” Antonio asked softly.

Lovino and Antonio were always by his side. The journey back to the Orlon Forest was a blur, for the most part. Time had slipped from him. After he left the mountains, bleeding from a wound caused by a ferocious mountain lion, he had just walked, mourning Ludwig and now Gilbert. They were all gone. He did not stop in any sort of inn or tavern. For two weeks, he just walked, stopping whenever he could to drink some water. He barely remembered stumbling into his village after midnight. Unfortunately, he would always remember Lovino’s wails of panic as Feliciano staggered into his brother’s hut. He would never forget Lovino’s wide eyes and Antonio’s urgent gestures. Then others had arrived. Catalina, Manon, Govert, the healer. Lovino and Antonio rocked him as he cried, as he screamed to Mab and Oberon because _how dare they take his mate, how dare they take his brother. Aren’t they happy enough with each other? Why do they need his family?_

After the healer had him in a bed, she announced that Feliciano would not die. He, miraculously, did not have a fever, but he was starving, and he was pregnant. Feliciano lay there, waiting to hear Lovino hiss and curse at him for his stupidity, but his brother didn’t do either. He just cried. “Let me see him. Let me see my baby brother!” Feliciano remembered he still had some family left.

“I’m tired,” Feliciano said in reply to Antonio’s question. “Can I sleep some more?”

“No.” Lovino shifted so he was staring into Feliciano’s eyes. His gaze was hard. “Ever since you came back, you have done nothing but sleep and nibble on bread. You need to get up. You need sunlight, and more food, and air.”

Feliciano stared at his brother. “Will sunlight, and food, and air bring my mate back?”

It was an unfair thing to say, but he could not feel guilty when Lovino cringed. It was an honest question that had one simple answer. No.

After the first nightmarish day he had been back, Feliciano had told Antonio and Lovino about Ludwig. They already knew some things, Feliciano had traveled back to the Orlon Forest two separate times before he and Ludwig mated, so he could visit his family. Antonio and Lovino had not known they had mated, nor had they known Ludwig was a shapeshifter.

“Feli.” Antonio pulled Feliciano into his chest. Feliciano could hear the thumping of his heart. _Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump_. Calm, collected. Strong. He closed his eyes. “We need to talk to you about somethings. I know you’re tired, but we’re really worried about you. You can do that, right? Just talk for a little, and then I’ll get you some soup! Tomato soup, my specialty!”

“Okay.” They would pester him until he did so anyway. “What do you want to know?”

Lovino had taken his hand. Why did it feel so heavy? He watched as his brother ran his fingers across Feliciano’s knuckles. “This child… Are they...” Lovino faltered. It was often Lovino did not know what to say in stressful situations like these. Then his brother steeled himself. “Will they belong to your mate?”

The child. The one inside of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

He did not know what to expect, maybe a curse or a slap against his shoulder, because _how could you let a shapeshifter willingly impregnate you?_ But it didn’t come. Lovino tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling, his lips mouthing the words “thank you.” Antonio’s grip on him relaxed, a tension easing from the alpha. Why were they so scared? Lovino squeezed his hand. “Okay. Your mate. He is a shapeshifter.”

“His name is Ludwig.” The best alpha to have ever lived. “He shifts into a dire wolf. He has a brother named Gilbert, who can’t shift into anything.”

They were quiet for a moment. Feliciano could hear some of the children laughing outside. He wondered what the rest of the village would think of his babe. Sired by a shapeshifter. He knew the shifters of Versteckt would be delighted, regardless of the mother being Fae.

“We know,” Antonio murmured, stroking the top of Feliciano’s head. “You told us a few days ago. Do you remember?”

“Kind of.”

He could feel Antonio smile as he kissed his head this time. “He sounds like an amazing alpha. They both do.”

Feliciano almost smiled. “They were.” _Were._

Lovino squeezed his hand again. “Did you-”

“I have to ask the two of you something,” Feliciano said softly. He was getting so tired. His stomach was cramping. He knew he needed to eat, but the mere thought of food made his stomach roll. “When this child is born, can you two raise them?”

Once again, silence. This silence hurt. It stung him, it made him think about people he did not want to think of right now. Blue eyes, blond hair, strong hands. Red eyes, white hair, a readied smile. He didn’t like the silence so he kept talking. “I can’t. I won’t be able to. They need a mother who will be able to smile, and they need a father, any father in their life. Please. You two-” He choked. “You two will make wonderful parents, I know you will.”

He could not imagine himself holding a babe without Ludwig beside him, kissing his temple and whispering how perfect their child would be. Oh, and Ludwig would have been such a wonderful father. He was good with children, though he claimed not to be. All of the village children loved him. They would pester him all the time; the alpha children would boldly claim they were going to be just like him when they grew up, and the omega children would shyly giggle to each other and say they would be his mate when they grew older. All of them were so innocent and sweet. The gods only knew where they were now.

Lovino had moved again without Feliciano noticing. His nose was almost brushing Feliciano’s as he murmured, “I will not even consider that until you get out of this damn bed.”

Feliciano stared at his brother blankly. Lovino was too clever for his own damn good.

_Eight Months Later_

The herbs given to a male omega during a birth were almost as bad as poison. They knocked the user out, leaving them dead to the world. Male omegas were not built the same way as female omegas, it was impossible for them to _give_ birth. The baby could not go anywhere. In order for the procedure to be done, the mother would have to be cut open. A caesarean delivery was to be made. Unless a skilled healer was present during a male omega’s delivery, the mother usually died.

Feliciano was not too certain what he had expected after taking the herbs given to him by the healer of his village. The last thing he saw was Lovino and Antonio as they held his hands and gave him words of encouragement. Then nothing. It was just like going to sleep.

When Feliciano opened his eyes, he could not move. He was frozen. The only thing he could move were his eyes. And in this moment of frozen fear, Feliciano realized he had died. It had been too much on his body, and he had died. That must explain the beautiful female Faerie looking down at him. He wanted to say hello, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

The Faerie had long auburn hair tied in a braid that rested against her shoulder. Her eyes were warm pools of amber, filled with so much kindness Feliciano wanted to cry. She tilted her head to the side as she looked at him, open curiosity on her face. She started moving, walking around him as he lay on this bed in the infirmary. No one else was around. Panic tugged at his heart. Who was holding his child?

“Do not fret, little one,” the Fae said in a soft, angelic voice. He stared at her. She was dressed in a brown tunic, and black tights, with brown boots pulled up to the knee. Feliciano had no way of knowing this, but she seemed ready for battle. “You have been found.”

Found? Feliciano stared at her. Maybe this Faerie was his mother, or an aunt. He never met them, the only blood relative he had ever known was Lovino.

“Follow him,” the Faerie said, moving to his side. She sat on his bed, and smiled cheerfully down at him with eyes that looked so very familiar. Where had he seen those eyes? “Follow him well.”

Follow who?

“Merlin.” The Faerie leant closer, her face becoming sharper. Her long hair dissolved until it was short, stopping right around his ears, and her skin became just a bit tanner. Her chest flattened, too, until she was no longer a female Faerie at all, but a male. Feliciano was staring at himself. He watched himself get up and turn around, heading for the exit.

“Follow Merlin, Elain the Faerie.”

There was a flash of light, and Feliciano blinked. He kept blinking until the bright flash of light was gone and he was staring at the ceiling of the infirmary. Someone was talking. Oh, gods, his body felt weird.

“Look whose waking up!” Antonio’s cheerful voice drifted into his ears.

Feliciano groggily looked around. The female Faerie was gone. What was it she had said? Merlin? Elain? Suddenly, he remembered _why_ he had even been asleep. His child! Oh, gods, how could he have forgotten?

“It’s okay.” That was Lovino, speaking from directly beside him. Feliciano tried to blink out of this haze, but it was like he couldn’t. It swirled around his mind like a heavy fog. “How do you feel?”

Feliciano pried his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Where is the baby?”

“Right here.” The bed dipped as Antonio took a seat. Feliciano almost gasped. In Antonio’s arms, swaddled in a little blanket, was a baby. Moving with care, Antonio placed the babe in Feliciano’s awaiting arms. “An alpha boy.”

“An alpha boy,” Feliciano whispered, cradling the babe to his chest. He was asleep, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His skin was as white and as smooth looking as snow. Tufts of blond hair stuck up from the top of his head, right above round ears. The babe was not Fae. The breath caught in the back of Feliciano’s throat. “Hello, there.”

At some point, Antonio had stood up. Lovino leaned over and pressed a kiss to Feliciano’s cheek. “We’ll come back in soon. The healer should be with us, too.” It could have been Feliciano’s imagination, but he swore he heard Lovino whisper in the Old Language, “I’m so proud of you.”

Antonio kissed his head with a quiet, “I love you, Feli.”

It was hard to tell, but it sounded like they were crying. Feliciano barely looked at them, he was too busy staring at this tiny baby in his arms. It was just the two of them now. The baby made a soft, contented noise in his sleep, and his face seemed to relax. Did he know he was with his mother? Feliciano brought him closer and inhaled softly. He smelt like a newborn babe, of pine and moss and lavender. He smiled softly. “Are you a shapeshifter, little one?”

He maneuvered the babe so he was holding him with one arm and gently stroking his cheek with his free hand. He moved with deliberate care. If he made one wrong move, this poor babe would be helpless and vulnerable to the harsh world around him. Feliciano’s heart ached at the thought of this child alone, in the arms of anyone else.

Tiny little hands wrapped themselves around his pinkie finger, and he froze. He stared at the small babe, clutching his pinkie finger for dear life. It was the same finger Ludwig always took whenever they said something serious, or loving, or… or anything. It was their _thing_. It was like this babe was aware of that and wanted to be in on it. A small tear fell from Feliciano’s eye, but this time it was not from sadness. It was not from the pain of being alone. It was because this babe was the most beautiful thing in the entire world, and he _needed_ Feliciano. He would need Lovino and Antonio, too, but he would need Feliciano more than anything. He would need his mother to love him, to nurture him. To stand by his side and watch him grow. He would need his mother to tell him the stories of his brave father.

“I think,” Feliciano breathed. “I am going to call you Elias. Elias Beilschmidt.”

He pressed a loving kiss to the top of Elias’s head as more tears fell. “I’m your mother, and I’m going to raise you, okay? Lovino and Antonio are going to help me and, oh, they’re your aunt and uncle. And they are going to love you.” He smiled softly and kissed him again. “Your father isn’t here, but that’s okay. Your father would have loved you, Elias. He would have loved you so much. And so would your other uncle. His name is Gilbert. I’m sure-” Feliciano hiccupped. “-he would have spoiled you rotten.”

Elias hummed in his sleep, and the noise shattered Feliciano. This shatter was not the same as that night eight months ago. This was a graceful shatter, one that did not promise darkness and grief, but light and nurture. Elias did not let go of his pinkie finger as Feliciano pressed his forehead to his son’s.

“Dear Elias, can I tell you about your father?”

And somewhere deep inside Feliciano, that broken glass began piecing itself back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kind comments, you guys mean so much to me. I honestly cannot express my gratitude!
> 
> Notes:
> 
> -Glamour: common theme in Faerie folklore; Fae folk can use this in order for an onlooker to see whatever they want to see. Faeries can also use this alter their appearance in order to trick curious humans.
> 
> -Liebling: German term of endearment that means “my favorite”
> 
> -Oberon: I took this name from the Faerie King in _A Midsummer’s Night Dream_. If anyone has seen the anime _The Ancient Magus Bride_, Oberon is actually in it, along with his wife Titania. By the way, I may or may not have named Elias after the character Elias Ainsworth from the aforementioned anime :)
> 
> -Elain: The Elaine’s in Arthurian myth all have an “e” at the end of their name, but not this Elain. The name “Elain” is Welsh and means “fawn”. Unlike other Arthurian characters that show up in this story, she is completely made up. The closest character in Arthurian myth is Elaine of Corbenic


	8. Lupa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, it has been a little over a month since the last chapter, and I give everyone my sincerest apologies! School has started back up and this semester is already kicking my ass. Hard classes, choosing the next school to transfer to, blah, blah, blah. All things that totally exhaust me. Good news is that chapter 9 is already in the works, and the wait should not be as long!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read my story, and especially those who have commented. You guys are awesome. I thank you from the bottom of my heart <3
> 
> *cough* Real quick: It is canon that North Italy is very strong, but his cowardice makes him look weak. I HC that when loved ones are in danger, Feli is not a coward. He will fight for them, to the death if he needs to. Sorry if you don't agree. Now onto the chapter!

_The Orlon Forest___

The god of trickery was undoubtedly playing one of his wicked pranks on Gilbert.

He was probably tired by the amount of times Gilbert had disregarded the gods and spat on their names, and as an act of revenge he created everything before the alpha. The small huts scattered throughout the sparse forest, the Fae encircling him, Feliciano sobbing against his chest, all of it was set up by the silver tongued god as retribution for Gilbert’s past mistakes.

That had to be it, because there was no other explanation as to _how_ Feliciano was here and alive. He was skin and bone, like he would blow away in the wind, but he was here. He was crouched in front of Gilbert with a fox red tunic and light brown tights. His clothes, his skin, his scent, it was all so _real_. Gilbert buried his face in the reddish-brown hair that tickled his nose, and inhaled. His scent was rich with lavender, yarrow, thyme, and dandelion, mingling together in such familiarity. And underneath the smell of herbs and flowers, it was there. Faint, perhaps too old for someone that did not have the nose of a shapeshifter, but the scent of pine and moss still clung to Feliciano. Ludwig’s scent. More tears fell from eyes that should be completely cried out, but Gilbert could not stop them. If this was a ploy by the trickster god, Gilbert would hunt the bastard down and skin him alive.

Feliciano pulled his head back and stared Gilbert with a splotchy, red face. His lips wobbled as he lifted them into a smile. “Are you really here?” he asked, probably for the third time since they had reunited just minutes ago. He pressed his hands to Gilbert’s cheeks, the touch warm despite the winter afternoon they were sitting in. On his left wrist, a piece of black fabric was tied in a little bow, a piece of mourning for a mate that had died nine years ago. The air in his throat caught from the small touch, and at the sight of the bow, and it rendered him from speech, so he took to simply nodding. Feliciano seemed more than happy with the answer. He spluttered and pulled Gilbert into his chest. “Oh, goddess, you are!”

His wounded arm barked in protest as it pressed against Feliciano’s chest, but he kept quiet about the pain in order to relish this moment. This pain was nothing compared to the kind he had felt nine years ago after he watched his brother die, and then once again after believing he failed in the final request Ludwig gave to him: _‘Take care of him, brother.’_ Those words had haunted Gilbert for months, years, side-by-side with the images of a sword protruding from a chest, and golden and red blood sprayed across the land. It surrendered him to insomnia, alcohol, and anger. It made his body shake uncontrollably, caused nightmares to stalk his dreams, and it was always on replay in his mind. Over and over…

“Gilbert.” Feliciano’s voice was like the alcohol he poisoned himself with, reassuring and close, a remedy. Feliciano had drawn away again and took Gilbert’s hands in his own. Callouses decorated once smooth appendages, but they were still so familiar. “You’re shaking really badly.” A wobbly smile appeared on his face. “It’s okay, you don’t need to be afraid of anything. You’re safe now!”

Safe in the arms of Feliciano. These gods’ forsaken tremors would continue to assault him, maybe even for the rest of his life, but he would damn them to hell and have it join that trickster god and the rest of his cadre. He and Feliciano were safe now. “I know. You’ll protect me, right?” Gilbert shook his head and squeezed the hands interlocked with his own. “I’m so happy to see you again, Feli.”

Feliciano’s smile widened despite the tears continuing to stream from his eyes. Would they ever stop crying? “It feels like a dream.”

Gilbert’s voice cracked mid-laugh. He brushed Feliciano’s tears away, and his fingers slowly began to cease their shaking, as if they were aware this was someone very important to him that he had somehow found. “How are you even here?” Golden blood flashed in his mind again. A puddle, a trail that ceased, and then nothing. “I thought you were... But you’re here, and you’re alive, and-” Gilbert’s ramble cut off when he remembered someone. The boy from before, the one who resembled a very young Ludwig. His hands fell from Feliciano’s face as he tried to calm his heart. He had to know now. “I found a boy named Elias, and he looks…” Once again, he did not finish the sentence, because what if the kid actually looked nothing like Gilbert’s brother, and he had just made it up in a fit of insanity?

Feliciano’s hands stroked Gilbert’s back, up and down, and around in circles. They gently tapped him a few more times before they fell back to Feliciano’s lap. For the first time since they had seen each other again, the look of peace fell over Feliciano’s face. He turned his head and gestured for someone with a gentle smile on his face, and the entire time, the thick lump in Gilbert’s throat swelled until he was quite sure everyone here could hear his labored breathing. Behind Feliciano, Elias slunk closer. His little spear was no longer clutched in his hands that now gripped the cuffs of his sleeves for dear life. His blue eyes flicked past them, where Lovino and another- Gilbert bet every coin on him the Fae was Antonio- stood. The boy looked terrified, cautious, and just a bit angry. “It’s okay, Elias,” Feliciano murmured as he offered him a hand. “I want you to meet someone.”

Elias hesitated, then took Feliciano’s hand. The Fae gently ushered him down so he too was kneeling on the ground. Feliciano brushed Elias’s blond bangs from his forehead and tucked stray pieces of hair behind his rounded ears. His eyes glowed with such love and pride, Gilbert knew he was not making it up. This boy was Feliciano’s son.

“Do you remember what I told you of your uncle?” Feliciano asked softly. “He was part shapeshifter with teeth just like yours, and built so many weapons, he had an entire shed full of them! Remember that?”

Gilbert waited with bated breath as Elias stared at him with an expression mirroring an animal contemplating if they should fight or flee. “Yes,” the boy finally said. “You told me he was dead.”

“I thought he was.” Feliciano ran his fingers over Elias’s cheek, prompting the boy to look at him. “And I was very wrong. Elias, this is your uncle, Gilbert.” A small tear ran down his face. “Your father’s older brother.”

Gilbert forced himself to take in a shuddering breath through the massive rock lodged in his throat. Elias blinked at him. He tried to smile at the boy, but it felt weak and forced, even though his insides were exploding with relief and happiness. So many emotions he never thought he would truly feel again were unraveling themselves within him, leaving him raw and new, and it was all thanks to this boy with tan skin, golden hair, and eyes that mirrored the winter sky. “Hey there, kid,” he said. “It’s really nice to meet you. Properly, I mean.”

Elias’s anger was like a blade hovering against Gilbert’s neck, puncturing his skin inch by inch. It was excruciating, but he knew if he made any sort of movement, Elias would push it in deeper. Even so, it was hard to sit still with those ice-chipped eyes boring in him, and his stomach was tying itself in so many knots because Elias’s eyes were Ludwig’s, and his _face_ was so familiar that it physically hurt Gilbert. He was not sure how much longer he could take this. Thankfully, the glaring did not continue. Elias looked at the ground, his eyebrows knitted together and his hand curled into a fist.

“If you’re alive,” he quietly said, “why weren’t you there for my mom?” He snatched his hand from Feliciano’s and glared at Gilbert once again, with eyes that glistened in the pale sunlight. “Why did the two of _you_ abandon us?”

“Elias.” Feliciano reached out, but Elias easily moved from the grip. “I’ve told you before, no one was abandoned. If that were the case, my scent would be different. Please, can you talk to Gilbert?”

“No.” Elias’s glare sliced through Gilbert, but then it wavered and the glistening in his eyes looked a lot more like tears than the shimmering sunlight. “He needs to go away. He doesn’t know what you’ve had to go to through, all because of my father.” The words were spat with so much hatred, Gilbert almost flinched. “I don’t want him here, I don’t want any part of him here. I already have an uncle, I don’t need two of them. I’m happy with Antonio!” He ran around Gilbert to the alpha standing next to Lovino, who looked dismayed when Elias clutched the back of his open shirt and buried his face in his back.

That couldn’t have gone worse. Gilbert looked back at Feliciano, and panic seized him. The smell of wilting flowers encircled him as Feliciano’s eyes quickly filled with tears again, and this time he looked very close to shattering. “I’m- I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I tried telling him about- everything. His father, you, but he just doesn’t…”

Gilbert immediately grabbed Feliciano’s hand and smiled as brightly as he could. “Don’t apologize, Feli! I’m not upset, see?” Feliciano didn’t look convinced. Without knowing what else to do, Gilbert wrapped his arm back around the trembling Faerie and pulled him into his chest. The smell of dying flowers grew stronger from their proximity, but Gilbert ignored it. He would bring back the happy smell of lavender and dandelion. Against Feliciano’s ear, he whispered, “He’s an alpha, and they can be hard to deal with sometimes. It’s okay! We can all talk in private, yeah?”

Gilbert did not lie when he said it was okay. Territorial, defensive, and moody, they were all signs of an alpha child growing up with… issues. Shapeshifter children were difficult regardless of their typing because of the extra animalistic blood in them, and Elias did not have a father in his life. Of course he would be wary of Gilbert, of course he wouldn’t want anything to do with him, and, more so than anything, he would consider Gilbert’s and Ludwig’s absence from his life as abandonment, especially if things were rough for him and Feliciano. Gilbert did not blame him, but he hoped the three of them could talk, he could explain to Elias then what happened to him, and Feliciano could tell his own story and explain how the hell he was alive. In his arms, Feliciano nodded and wiped his drying face. They were going to be okay.

Someone was approaching them from the side. The urge to protect Feliciano bubbled inside of Gilbert uncontrollably, and he looked up at the newcomer with a small growl on his lips. It died down when he saw it was not some burly alpha ready to force them apart, or something similiar. The Faerie standing over them was female and, judging by the sweet aroma around her, omega. A brown dress hung from her broad and thick bodice, the few patches scattered about indicating it was quite old. The dress stopped at her collar bone, so her dark olive skin was exposed to the winter elements. Her wavy brown hair glistened in the pale lighting; in fact, her entirety seemed to beam in the sunlight. Her green eyes pierced into Gilbert’s, but there was no hostility within them, and her scent was not souring with suspicion. Weirdly enough, she was almost smiling.

Feliciano looked past Gilbert, gasped, and scrambled to his feet. He inclined his head in the female’s direction, and his hands started moving in a frenzy. “I-I’m so sorry! I should have introduced him before-before running to him, but I promise he means no harm. I don’t know what he’s doing here but-”

The female put her hand up, and smoothly cut in. “Calm down, Feli. I’m not worried about that right now; he is surrounded by us, there is not much he can do.”

Still sitting on the ground, Gilbert scanned the Fae standing around them in a half-circle. There couldn’t be more than fifty, including the children. Larger built Fae, probable alphas, were shouldering smaller Fae behind them, but they looked uncertain as they stared at Gilbert and Feliciano, like they weren’t sure if this intruder was a malicious one or not. Some of them must have known Gilbert was coming, Elias had said he overheard others talking about a shapeshifter wandering through the forest with a companion. Said companion was limping closer with his staff. He wasn’t bound, and not a single scratch was visible. Matthew looked completely unharmed. A quiet sigh of relief left him at this revelation. Gilbert peered back up at the female Faerie and clamored to his feet with help from his uninjured arm.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything.” Since Feliciano inclined his head when he stood, Gilbert did too. “Name’s Gilbert Beilschmidt. Nice to meet you.”

The Faerie regarded him with her friendly face. Gilbert tried recalling anything he could of this place, but Feliciano only ever talked about Lovino and Antonio. Ludwig probably knew more, but Feliciano was quite secretive about this little nook in the Orlon Forest. Even so, it was obvious this Fae held some sort of status.

When she spoke, her smile grew soft. “Beilschmidt.” Her green eyes closed. “I have heard a few things about you, like your death.” She opened her eyes again. “Yet here you are.”

To each other, they were both dead. Gilbert drowned and Feliciano was mauled. Swallowing back the pain in his chest, Gilbert said, “Feli and I have a lot to talk about.”

“So it seems.” She kept smiling at Gilbert, and he felt a bit unnerved by it. She did not look so friendly anymore. “I have briefly spoken with Matthew, but I am still very intrigued by his answers. A shapeshifter and seer wandering through my forest, looking for the _Fabula_.” Her smile tightened. “I believe we all have a lot to talk about.”

Feliciano gasped. “You know about _that_?” Like the female, his voice was hushed.

“That information is sacred,” hissed Lovino.

Gilbert barely heard them because, by the gods, the damn book was here. The book was real. This was going to lead Matthew to the mythical King Arthur. He almost couldn’t believe it. Considering only an hour passed between Matthew and Gilbert’s separation to Gilbert and Elias’s meeting, there was no way Matthew had explained everything. How much did this Faerie know about their journey?

Gilbert forced himself to grin. “We’re just on a little quest. If you want the real scoop, ask my friend there. I am but a humble lackey with a bow at my back.”

The female’s eyes crinkled and Gilbert’s grin grew as the wind ruffled their hair and clothes. Lovino and Antonio had to be creeping forward as Feliciano shifted, Matthew shook his head, and Elias leaned forward with bright eyes. A strange tension filled the air as two predators regarded one another with all the patience of nature. In the middle of the forest, a shapeshifter and Fae refused to back down, and no one knew what to expect. The tension shattered when the female spoke.

“You would make a terrible soldier, but a formidable enemy.” She stuck out her hand, and Gilbert immediately took it as the others relaxed. “A lifetime ago, I was known as Legatus Carriedo, but you may call me Catalina.”

Did the wind pick up and rupture his hearing for a minute? Because it sounded like she said she was _Legatus Carriedo._ Feliciano murmured, “Oh boy,” but it fell on deaf ears. Eagerly, Gilbert shook her hand. “_The_ Legatus Carriedo, commander of the Legion of the Sun?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh. Oh, gods.” Gilbert was going to fall over. This Fae was legendary. His father would tell stories of her battles and glories on storm tossed nights with the fire blazing, and afterwards Gilbert and Ludwig would always pretend to be a part of her legion as they ran around the house with sheets tied to their necks to mimic the uniforms worn by commanders in Raetia’s army. “It’s- oh wow. It’s an honor to meet you!”

Catalina’s smile grew. She took her hand from his, and looked at Feliciano. “A fan of military history, is he?”

“Yes.” Feliciano’s voice wavered a bit. “They both were.”

“You’ve heard of her?” Matthew asked from Catalina’s side.

Gilbert nodded. “Of course! Legatus Carriedo led unstoppable legions of the Sun Fae for years. She was one of Raetia’s best warriors. Ballads have stretched across Esmya to tell her epic tale, it’s awesome! When she stepped down, everyone knew no one would ever be capable of replacing her.”

The silence that passed allowed a bit of embarrassment to seep into Gilbert, and he thought maybe he should have kept quiet about his admiration for her. Thankfully, Antonio broke the silence before it could become awkward. “Wow. You sure know your stuff.”

“I’m not surprised.” Catalina’s eyes rested on the iron cross at Gilbert’s chest, and he felt the urge to hide it. Her words confused him, too. “As much as I would love for you to continue talking of my past grandeurs, there are more pressing matters we need to get to.” Gilbert felt like he could breathe when Catalina looked away. “Everyone but my council is to continue with tomorrow’s preparations! Before dinner, I will announce the verdict of our intruders!”

The Fae around them slowly started dispersing. A few hesitated only to glare at Gilbert- no. He stiffened as he followed their gazes and found them looking at _Feliciano_. Miffed and quite disturbed, he pressed his arm against Feliciano’s and met the glare of the others until they walked away. Feliciano’s body relaxed beside his, but he did not look Gilbert’s way. He kept his eyes on the ground.

From the crowd, only three remained. A tall male with spikey blond hair and a scarf covering his mouth, a female with strawberry blonde hair and a wicked gleam in her eyes, and another male with an angry face, long brown hair, and visible muscles under his shirt. He stomped over first, followed more slowly by the other two.

“You’re kidding,” the male growled. He pointed aggressively at Feliciano. “Just because _Lupa_ knows this guy, we’re treating him like a guest?”

“Back off, Enzo.” Lovino stalked forward and wasted no time getting in Enzo’s face. He was at least two heads shorter, but the little Fae in the light brown tunic looked mighty intimidating as he showed his teeth. Gilbert’s arm ached at the memory of his hands pulling it back with the strength of an alpha. “And I told you to stop calling him that.”

Enzo snorted. “Only a _she-wolf_ would give birth to a pup.” His smile was cruel as he looked past Lovino to sneer. “Ain’t that right, _Lupa_?”

Elias was the first to react. He moved so fast in front of Feliciano, Gilbert barely saw him, but he did see those sharp fangs emerge under pulled back lips, and the absolute fire and rage in his widened blue eyes. “Leave my mom alone,” he growled, much more animalistic than any Fae was capable of. “He isn’t a she-wolf.”

Feliciano actually smiled despite the situation and gently pulled Elias back. “It’s okay. I’m not in any sort of danger.”

It seemed Enzo did not appreciate being growled at by a child. He shouldered Lovino aside and spat, “Yeah, listen to your mommy. What are you going to do anyway, runt? Bite me again like the animal you are? Go ahead and try.”

_This_ time, Feliciano’s eyes flashed. He straightened slowly and stiffly, with his amber eyes brightening despite the darkening sky. His rage was quiet, simmering underneath skin long since hardened over the years. For some reason, Gilbert was reminded of his father teaching him and Ludwig about wolves, a common subject considering they were practically descendants of the mighty beasts.

He remembered it clearly; he was crouched in a dark forest on a cool spring day with his father between him and his brother as they watched a brown wolf lay in the sun with four pups playing around her. “Never pick a fight with a mother wolf,” his father murmured. “She will fight to the death for her pups, and she will almost certainly make sure to take you down with her. Shapeshifter mothers, regardless of their animal form, are a lot like wolves in that aspect.” His father had paused. “No. Any mother is like a wolf.”

And Gilbert finally understood what his father was talking about, as Feliciano slowly picked his way to Enzo. Here was an omega, who would hide behind his mate when he was scared, who would rather run than confront an enemy, walking to an alpha twice his size all because he said something threatening to his child. Gilbert was more than satisfied to find the slight fear in Enzo’s eyes. Coward. Picking a fight with a child. Gilbert would gladly sit back and watch Feliciano kick his ass, because he was sure he could. Ludwig taught him how to fight off an alpha as large as _him_, after all. Enzo was large, but not Ludwig’s size. If Feliciano remembered what Ludwig taught him, he could have this bastard on his ass in an instant.

Unfortunately, Antonio rushed forward and slipped between Feliciano and Enzo. “Enough! Catalina did not call the council together for us to unnecessarily argue.” Feliciano’s eyes were still bright as he glared at Enzo over Antonio’s shoulder, and Gilbert almost expected him to tackle the Fae, but he stepped back and took his place beside Gilbert and Elias once more. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and when he opened them, that gleam was gone. Gilbert wished Ludwig could have been here to see that, he would have been so damn proud. 

“Thank you,” Antonio said. “Now, why don’t we listen to our leader before we throw out any more accusations.” Suddenly, without any warning, Antonio lurched forward and gripped Enzo’s shirt to pull him close. His voice was low as he calmly said, “But if you ever bare your fangs and touch my mate again, I will make sure consequences are delivered. Got it?”

Enzo looked like he wanted to argue- Gilbert was kind of hoping he would- but he just grunted, nodded, and shook Antonio off. The dark skinned Fae turned on his heel and smiled at Lovino, but only received a scoff in reply. 

Catalina clapped her hands, drawing the attention of everyone gathered. With the darkened clouds blocking on the sun, she no longer looked radiant. In fact, she looked rather tired. Her hair seemed much limper, and her green eyes were dull. Antonio, who must be her son, did not look the same. Just how old was Catalina?

“I believe introductions are needed. Matthew and Gilbert, these are the members of my council: my youngest son Antonio, Lovino, Govert, Manon, Enzo, and Feliciano. And, of course, there is little Elias.” Matthew gave a little wave but it went unnoticed by Elias. The boy was still standing in front of Feliciano with his arms crossed and the back of his head resting against his mother’s stomach. He looked like a little knight without any armor. “He isn’t a part of my council, but an important part of camp life nonetheless.”

That got Elias’s attention. With everyone’s eyes on him, he slipped to Feliciano’s side and pressed his head against his mother’s ribs. Gilbert’s heart swelled as Feliciano wrapped and arm around the boy and tugged him close.

“Now.” Catalina straightened. “Matthew, you said you are looking for the _Fabula_. We’re going to need to talk before I tell you anything about it.”

“Of course,” Matthew, the overly kind one, said with a dip of his head.

“I would also like to talk to you, Gilbert,” Catalina continued as she looked his way. “But I think it would be better if you talked with Feliciano instead.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened in surprise. That was unexpectedly kind. Feliciano’s smile was so wide, it looked like his face was going to split in two. “Oh, Catalina. Thank you so much! You have no idea how much… oh, thank you.”

He was relieved to see there were still parts of Feliciano that hadn’t changed over the years. He took Feliciano’s hand in his with a soft smile on his face, and it only grew when Feliciano met it with one of his own.

“That,” Enzo growled, “is a horrible idea. They could talk about anything!”

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” Lovino muttered.

Catalina shrugged. “Okay. If you’re worried about it, Enzo, you can stand guard while they talk. But you are only to stay outside.”

Enzo didn’t exactly look happy about this, but he bowed his head and didn’t say another word. Gilbert glanced at Feliciano and Elias. They seemed so small under the scrutiny of others. Could someone here have hurt them? The thought sent a fire racing through his chest. When shapeshifters had children, the entire pack or village helped take care of them, especially if the child was without a mother or father. Here, it seemed only two people cared enough to help Feliciano, and that pissed Gilbert off. He would make sure to ask Feliciano about it, and if he figured out someone did hurt him, may the gods have mercy on that sorry soul.

“While the two of you talk, the rest of my council will listen to Matthew.” Catalina smiled at Matthew. “You will give us more detail as to why you’re here, and then we will see about that _Fabula_.”

Matthew agreed, but Gilbert didn’t. Matthew would be alone with five strangers, and he was weaponless. All he could do was whack someone on the edge with his staff. “I can stay with him,” he said without meaning to. “And talk to Feliciano later.”

“Don’t be silly, Gil.” Matthew tilted his head to the side and smiled. “I trust these Fae. I’ll be fine.”

Gilbert didn’t know if he should agree to that, especially since that Govert guy was looking at Matthew rather intensely. Was it just his imagination? It made his stomach churn. Were Fae interested in betas?

“Trust me,” Feliciano said brightly. “The Fae standing here are the best in the entire village! Matthew is in good hands.”

Gilbert hesitated, and stared at Matthew again, who just kept smiling. He was pretty naive, but he wouldn’t blabber anything too important. He was too smart. Hell, Gilbert thought him one of the smartest people he had ever come across. If Matthew were in any sort of danger… he would call for Gilbert, and Gilbert would listen. That, and Kuma would come running. “Fine.”

“Wonderful.” Catalina nodded. “Govert and Manon, take Matthew to the hut.” Gilbert sucked his bottom lip as the two Fae stood on either side of Matthew and led him away. He would be fine, so why the hell was Gilbert so damn worried? Why were his teeth grinding together when he saw the smile Matthew gave Govert? And _why_ was Feliciano giggling?

“Come by the infirmary afterward, Matthew!” Feliciano called after his chuckles subsided. “I need to give you that salve for your knee!”

Lovino knelt down and whispered something to Elias, and Gilbert swore he heard the words “give him a chance”. When Lovino stood back up, he nodded to Gilbert. “Hurt my brother and it’s your other arm.” Then he followed after Govert and Manon. What a strange guy.

“Okay, ready to go, Elias?” Feliciano let go of Gilbert’s hand and took Elias’s as they headed toward a cottage. Enzo followed slowly behind, keeping his head down. “We’re going to talk with Gilbert, and while we talk you and I are going to prepare a salve for Matthew and a paste for Gil! After that, I promise we’ll do something fun together. How does that sound?”

“I don’t really want to talk, but I guess… I don’t know. I guess it sounds fine.” Elias brightened. “Can I practice my shifting after? I’m getting better, I think.”

Feliciano’s laughter shook Gilbert. It was a sound he thought he would never hear again. “That sounds great! We’ll practice for a bit, and then you can help me prepare for Yule tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Hey.” Gilbert paused when Antonio said the word. He was about to follow Feliciano and Elias, thinking everyone was going their separate ways, but it seemed he was wrong. Antonio smiled just like his mother. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh.” Gilbert grinned, and regarded the bare footed Fae with loose brown pants and an open brown shirt that exposed a muscled stomach. “Same here. Feli loved talking about you.”

From what he had been told, Antonio was five years older than Gilbert, since he was fifteen when he found Lovino and Feliciano. There was a wise look in his gaze, one that mirrored Catalina’s. It was just a bit weird since he was only five years older than Gilbert himself, who had nothing like that shining in his own eyes.

Antonio’s smile softened. “Feli is like my little brother, so, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for looking after him for those thirteen years. And if your brother were here, I would give him the same thanks. Lovi won’t admit it, but he thinks this too. He’s said it to me on numerous occasions.”

The words shocked Gilbert into a brief silence. He didn’t know what to say. “I-it was mostly Ludwig.”

“No, it wasn’t. Elias’s middle name is Gilbert for a reason.” Gilbert would not cry in front Antonio. He refused to show any sort of weakness to such a kind alpha. The Faerie clapped him on the shoulder. “Come find me when all this is over. That bow at your back intrigues me.”

He stepped back to stand beside Catalina, still smiling. Gilbert barely felt the earth under his boots as he followed after Feliciano and Elias. Elias Gilbert Beilschmidt. The wind shook the tops of the trees, and a dead leaf fluttered to the ground, missing Gilbert by a hair. He didn’t see it, not as he smiled brightly and felt actual pride directed at himself for the first time in nine whole years.

Antonio and Catalina watched him go, keeping quiet until Gilbert made it to Feliciano and Elias. They watched the small family slip inside the cottage, with Enzo crossing his arms and leaning against the door that swung closed.

“Why did you trust him so easily?” Antonio asked. “Even if he’s Feli’s mate’s family, you’re usually so protective of him.”

Catalina stared up at the sky, where the sun was completely hidden by the dark clouds coming in from the mountains in the north. She wished it were out, warming her and filling her with some semblance of magic stripped from her fifty-two years ago. Not only did the last Faerie King curse them to look more human, but he also took much of their magic; it was not to punish them, but to hide them. Oh, did she miss her adventures with the late king. “Gilbert is the son of Aldrich Beilschmidt.”

Antonio whipped his head around. “The wolf of the Black Forest?”

“The very one.” She thought back to the last time she saw Aldrich. He was ever stoic, like a mountain in the wind, with his long platinum hair and sharp blue eyes. That last day she had seen him, he was smiling as he looked upon his two young sons with pride in his eyes. One with wild white hair, and another with blond hair the same shade as his father’s. They ran around his legs with little wooden swords in their hands, attempting to spar with one another despite their young age. But as Aldrich played with his sons, his new mate, a seer with violet eyes, pressed the _Fabula_ into Catalina’s hands.

“I knew him personally, so believe me when I tell you he would do everything in his power to raise a child of his into a proper alpha.” Aldrich’s life was cut short. She heard about it in the Orlon Forest, fifty years ago, how the leader of the once unstoppable Beilschmidt clan was burned at the stake by Avalon. It was only two years after Raetia’s fall; just one tragedy after another. “And it seems like he did just that.”

.

There was a slight tremor to Feliciano’s hands as he broke up the bar of beeswax with his knife. He could not fully concentrate on his work because Gilbert was walking around like he never left, like the time spent mourning him for nine years was for nothing. It was like someone had risen from the dead. Feliciano could not stop glancing up from his wooden desk to look at Gilbert every now and then. His brown pants were dusty, and his knee-high black boots were scuffed and filthy. The black leather jacket was scuffed too. He needed to clean his clothes, he probably needed a bath, and perhaps more so than anything, he needed a night of rest. Feliciano bit back a cry when the knife sliced the tip of his finger. Obviously, _he_ needed to focus.

“Damn, Feli.” Gilbert whistled. “This place is incredible.”

“I know,” he replied with a soft smile. With the beeswax now cut into for long slices, he started working on cutting them into small chunks. “The healer before me designed the cottage. One part of the house dedicated to patients, a room for herself, and a room to work and store medicines.”

The room they were currently in was the one Feliciano spent most of his time in. The walls were lined with shelves filled with jars of salves, poultices, and vials of oils. Labelled herbs were in their own spot, a whole shelf underneath the others, all of which were ones that were dry and could survive without roots. In the corner was a desk made of oak where Feliciano now sat, beginning the preparations for the salve that would soothe Matthew’s inflamed knee. Finally, in the center of the room, there was a small fire pit. The blanket covering the little window at the back was pulled aside, giving way to a chill, but it got rid of the smoky scent. Elias sat by the fire, stoking it gently with an iron boiler at his side.

Feliciano smiled softly when Elias leaned away. “Is this good? I made sure to keep it low.”

“That’s perfect.” He put the knife down and stood. “Come bring the boiler over here.”

Ever the dutiful assistant, Elias stood up and walked over. Feliciano dropped the chunks of beeswax into the bowl that Elias held in a strong grip. He even puffed out his chest as he held it, as if the bowl were heavy. Feliciano bit his lip to keep from chuckling. “Can I trust you to do the next part?”

“Yeah!” Elias eagerly took the boiler back to the fire and placed it on the ground. He walked around to one of the shelves. “Get the stand… put it over the fire, and then…” He put the boiler through the circle meant to hold it, and the flames gently licked the bottom of the bowl. He plopped to the ground and smiled widely enough Feliciano could see one of his missing fangs. “I did it!”

“You did!” Feliciano leant down to kiss Elias’s head. Before Elias, he never knew it was possible to love someone as much as he loved Ludwig. “Now keep an eye on that, and call me when it’s completely melted. The chunks need to be all gone before we can add the ginger.”

“Got it.” Elias raised himself on his knees and leaned over to look at the boiler. He narrowed his eyes, almost comically so. “_Completely_ melted.”

Gilbert rested against the desk Feliciano had previously occupied, with his eyes on Elias. There was a pang in Feliciano’s chest. Elias still had not formally acknowledged Gilbert. He knew everything about his uncle, from the weapons he made to the arrows he could fire, and the same could be said of his father. When Elias was younger, he would exclaim how proud he was to be part of such a powerful family. Every night before bed, he begged Feliciano for a new story. _How did you and Dad meet? What did Dad’s wolf form look like? Did you ever see him fight? Was Gilbert really a sharpshooter?_ The questions warmed Feliciano, and he happily answered every one he received. But as Elias grew older the need for stories dwindled, and the questions grew strange. _Why did Dad leave you?_ Then Elias stopped calling him Dad at all, and that hurt Feliciano more than anything. He tried explaining to Elias what happened, but Elias didn’t seem interested, and he completely stopped asking about shapeshifter culture. Feliciano fully believed Elias blamed his father for the cruel words spat their way.

If only Elias could have met his father.

“Hey.” Gilbert gently nudged his foot. “You okay? You got this weird look in your eyes.”

At least Elias could still meet his uncle. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Before he put Elias to bed, he would talk to him and try to explain, again, just how wonderful of an alpha his father had been. “I’m fine! How’s your arm?”

Gilbert gave the now wrapped arm a little wiggle. “A lot better now that you’ve put that stuff on it.” He grew silent for a moment, his gaze sliding back to Elias. “Sorry for the drastic topic change, but what the hell was up with that Fae from earlier? Why was he calling you _Lupa_?”

Feliciano’s throat tightened. He meandered over to the shelves of herbs where a small basket rested. He picked it up, the contents consisting of string, and dried cedar and pine branches. He brought it back to the desk Gilbert leaned against, and laid it down. “Do you remember the reason I left seventeen years ago?” he asked softly, as to not get Elias’s attention. “There were three alphas who wanted to mate with me? Enzo was one of them. Most of the omegas wanted me to mate with him because he’s the best hunter in our village, and, I guess, others found him attractive. But he mostly wanted to show off for himself. He found me pretty, that’s all. He took it personally when I left and came back mated to a shapeshifter, and pregnant with his child.” He smiled a bit. “He calls me _Lupa_ because it means she-wolf in our language. Because I laid with a shapeshifter, because I had his child, it makes me more of an animal than a Faerie.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Gilbert’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Not at all.”

During one of the first weeks he was back in the Orlon Forest, Enzo had approached him with care and offered to hunt for him. Feliciano had accepted the request, until Enzo claimed how disgusting it was for a shapeshifter to rape a Fae like him. Appalled, Feliciano quickly said, no, his mate would never do something so foul. It was consensual, it always was. Enzo grew angry, and that was that. Afterward, everyone treated him differently. With the exception of Lovino, Antonio, Catalina, Govert, and Manon, they all thought his pregnancy had been brought on by force. Feliciano would always prefer them to know the truth rather than spit on Ludwig’s grave and accuse him of such atrocities. If only Elias weren’t affected by it. If only other mothers didn’t tell Feliciano to his face that they were uncomfortable with a shapeshifter playing with their own children.

“He’s too violent”, “he will hurt my daughter”, “don’t want him growing up like his father, do we?” The words angered Feliciano. He did not care of the names spat his way, but when others turned on his innocent son, the product of the love he shared with Ludwig, he cared. He would gladly act like a she-wolf if it would get others to leave Elias alone. Lovino was quick about it, too. He actually got physical with an omega for spitting in Elias’s direction. Feliciano is still thankful Lovino did, because if he had gotten to her first, he would have killed her. _If only_ Ludwig were here. He would shield Feliciano and Elias of the rotten words and slurs. Hell, if Ludwig were here, there probably wouldn’t be any slurs. Feliciano looked away to blink the tears from his eyes.

“But I don’t care,” he murmured. “They can call me _Lupa_ all they want, it’s just a reminder of who my mate is. No matter what they say, they will never sully him to me. Never.”

Feliciano took a deep breath. He needed to breathe before he got himself too worked up. There were so many things Gilbert could say in reply to what was just said, but it was a topic that made him uncomfortable. Even though this was Gilbert, there were certain things Feliciano would only ever tell Ludwig. This was one of them.

“Can you help me prepare for Yule tomorrow?” Giving the alpha an easy smile, he gestured to the basket on the desk. “It’s an easy task, just tedious.”

Blessed Gilbert must have understood he did not want to talk about something so foul, because he grinned and stood from the desk. “I’m your helper, Feli! Just tell me what I need to do, and I’m your man.”

“Great!” He pulled the items from the basket and placed them all on the desk, scattering them to make it easier for them to work. “It’s always the healer’s job to make smudge sticks, so that’s what we’re doing! We burn them on the night of Yule, and it always smells so good, like the winter season just explodes in our faces! Unfortunately, I’m a little behind this season, so thanks for helping! It’s really easy.”

Gilbert picked up one of the pine branches and twirled it around. “You make them just to burn them?”

“Mmhm!” Feliciano collected three pine branches and placed them to the side. He unthreaded a piece of string, and once enough of it was out, he brought it to his mouth and bit it off. Picking the branches back up, he wound the string around the stems of the bundle. “It’s tradition.”

“Uh-huh.” Gilbert picked up a few branches and did the same thing, though he moved a bit more slowly. “That’s a lot of work for nothing, but to each their own. I guess.”

Feliciano just smiled. They worked in companionable silence for a good minute. Before the silence could become awkward, he spoke softly. It was time they shared their stories. “You know, I really want to hear about you and Matthew, and this quest you’re on. You know about the _Fabula_ and the goddess knows what other things you know about, and I think we should talk about that!” The breath caught in his throat. He concentrated on the dry branches in his hand, and silently said it was okay. This was Gilbert, his brother. “But first, I want to tell you about what… what happened. To me, I mean. And I want to hear about you too.”

The fire crackled in the center of the room, and through the open window, a far-off conversation was drifting inside. Gilbert sighed. It sounded like he was holding up the world. “This is going to be rough.”

“Yes.” Feliciano kept his eyes on the smudge stick, even as his mind started to wander into the past. “Do you want me to go first?”

Gilbert chuckled softly, but there was no humor within it. He brushed his arm against Feliciano’s in what was, probably, a purposeful gesture. “Okay.”

Feliciano looked away from his bundle of firs, and the first thing his eyes landed on was Elias. His beautiful son whom he loved more than anything in this entire world. In the end, it had been Elias who saved him that day. Elias looked away from the fire to stare quizzically at Feliciano. Feliciano could not help but smile, despite the storm inside of him. From the moment he stood up and gripped the small dagger nine years ago, he vowed to live for Elias. To this day, he has yet to break his bow.

“It’s funny,” he murmured. “Even though I don’t like thinking about it, I remember it like it was yesterday.”

_Mountains; Four days after the attack on Versteckt_

_There was a heavy sensation pressed against Feliciano’s eyes. He did not want to open them because it would hurt, actually his whole body hurt right now. There were stones inside of him, the sharp kind, the ones that sliced skin and shattered bone. They were rattling around beneath his skin, rendering him immovable and he was okay with that. He never wanted to move again anyway._

_Something wet and sticky slid over his eyes, causing him to instinctively lift a heavy hand and smack it over his face. He felt nothing but sweat. With his hand right over his face, he pressed his fingers over his eyelids in order to pry them open. He blinked the sweat from his eyes, ignoring the burning sensation of it. Everything around him was so fuzzy and bright, he couldn’t make out anything. He knew he shouldn’t have opened his eyes._

_The sun was hot and high in the sky, creating a wavy haze through the trees around him. Birds were chirping, bugs were buzzing, and the wind was nonexistent. These were the mountains, the northernmost and coldest place in Avalon, and there was no wind. Feliciano felt like he was melting instead, as he lay on the ground, drowning in the sun. The hand on his forehead drifted down his sweaty cheek and neck until it landed against the middle of his chest where the iron cross rested. The metal was warm in his damp palm, but it was familiar. He did not need to look down as he ran his thumb over the grooves to see where it began and ended. He’s touched it for thirteen years, he knows it like the back of his hand. And he also knows it is the last piece of Ludwig he has._

_He braces himself for the grueling pain that pulls at him whenever he thinks of his mate, but it doesn’t come. Everything is so slow and quiet in him that even the pain takes a while to catch up. He’s just empty. He isn’t sure which he prefers, this quiet numbing sensation or the piercing pain in his heart. But what he would prefer over everything is his mate. Wrapping his strong arms around him, kissing his neck, stroking his stomach, whispering what it would be like to raise their child. Feliciano closed his eyes again and smiled softly as he leaned into an invisible being beside him, and for a moment, he swore he could feel arms around him and lips in his hair. It was so nice, so wonderful, and oh, if only he could see his beloved one more time. Because, in that fiery hell that had befallen them, Feliciano never said, “I love you too.” He had just cried and thought his mate selfish. Why couldn’t he have just said, “I love you, too”?_

_He opened his eyes again when his stomach cramped. He lifted himself up on all fours and slowly crawled to some of the bushes clustered together by a tree, and lowered his head in preparation to vomit. Only the sound of retching came, nothing else. There was nothing left inside of his stomach to dispose of. He collapsed against the bushes with a small whimper. His sleepwear clung to him in an almost inappropriate way; his loose brown pants sticking to his hips and thighs, and the identical loose shirt stuck to his sides in the same manner. He wanted to shed himself of them, but that would require effort and he was too weak to move anymore._

_For some reason, the thought of Gilbert entered his mind at this very moment. His body jolted, and he found himself struggling to sit up as something cold crashed over him. After walking for an entire day, Gilbert led them off the path and deeper into the forest, where he told Feliciano to stay. “We need food,” he had said as he gripped a bow, even though neither one of them had even thought about eating since the night everything happened. The hunters of Versteckt left their weapons tucked into trees outside of the town; it’s where Gilbert retrieved the bow, a quiver of arrows, and a dagger for Feliciano. He kneeled beside Feliciano and smiled. He smiled because he was Gilbert and he thought he had to take care of everyone. “Stay here, Feli. I’ll be back soon.”_

_That was… Feliciano tried counting. That was two days ago. Gilbert was a skilled hunter and tracker, and he was even better with a bow. It was the dead of summer, he should not have had any problem finding something to eat. That cold feeling slowly began consuming him. Something must be wrong. What if those soldiers found Gilbert? What if they… just like…? He needed to find Gilbert. He had to, because if Gilbert was gone, then what else was there? Feliciano’s body barked in protest as he tried desperately to stand, but his legs gave out and he fell back to the ground._

_He couldn’t, he was too weak. He coughed, his throat so dry it felt like the small cough made him bleed. A soft cry left him as he slowly curled into a ball. Gilbert would come back, right? Feliciano had spent the last two days sleeping and vomiting, thinking the days were shorter than they actually were, but he had counted the nights. Two nights. Two nights without Gilbert. And four without-_

_A stick snapped somewhere close._

_Feliciano weakly lifted his head. Could it be Gilbert? He narrowed his eyes through the haze building around him, and tried to make out the mop of white hair, but he saw nothing. He tried calling out for him, but the only thing that came out was a ragged huff of air. He lowered his head again. Maybe if he slept some more, he would wake up to Gilbert’s company. Maybe, if he slept, he would wake up in the arms of his lovely, beautiful, dead alpha._

_The hair along his arms stood up, and his mind jumped. His instincts were becoming alert. Something wormed its way into his stomach, because, if his instincts were waking, that meant something bad was approaching him. He picked his head up again and this time he saw something._

_Standing on top of a fallen log resting against a gigantic tree was the tawny body of a cougar. Its golden eyes were wide as it stared directly at Feliciano, and its tail swished back and forth. The breath caught in Feliciano’s throat as he regarded the predator. There were cougars stalking these mountains, he’s seen them before. Once before, years ago, he and Ludwig were walking through the highlands after visiting one of the larger towns to buy some supplies when two cougars appeared from nowhere. Feliciano had been terrified, but all Ludwig needed to do was shift into his wolf form. He did not need to snarl or growl, they backed off almost immediately just by the sight of him alone. Feliciano had been so delighted by the display, he wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck and ran his fingers through the black fur. He still remembered how soft it was, and how warm. He demanded to ride on his back the rest of the way home, as to which Ludwig had sighed, but allowed it. Why… why was he thinking about that now? No one was here to shift into a larger predator, no one was here to scare away the monsters, and no one was here to carry him away from this hell. He was alone, with a cougar baring its teeth._

_Feliciano stared at the creature, waiting for the fear to bubble inside of him. It was there, but it was not all consuming, it was just a very light blanket draped over half his body. He truly did not care. If he died, he could see his beloved alpha and they would be together. He almost smiled. Feliciano began to lower his head back to the ground, and as he moved, his eyes caught on two very small cougars huddled below the fallen log. They seemed completely uninterested as they tumbled around, biting at each other’s ears. The cougar above them shrieked._

_Oh. It was a mother._

_And as the cougar jumped to the ground, Feliciano remembered that he too was a mother. There was a child inside of him, one that belonged to him and Ludwig. A daughter or son, an alpha or omega, a shapeshifter or Fae. If Feliciano died right here, then that child would never have the opportunity to grow, to smile, to laugh. They would never even feel the sun on their skin, or count the stars at night. It would be like they never even existed, and it would be Feliciano’s fault._

_Something within him grew hot with anger. This cougar was fighting for her cubs; Feliciano would do the same thing. He heard the large cat land on the forest floor. His hand slid between his hip and the waistband of his pants, where a sheathed dagger rested, and he wrapped his fingers around it. Then he pressed his hand against the ground and planted the soles of his feet in the grass._

_‘Get up.’ A voice he had never heard before was speaking to him. It was soft, and female, and had an accent just like his. ‘Get up, now.’_

_He was trying. With a small growl, he lifted himself completely on shaking legs. The only thing in his head was the life of his unborn child. They would live, he would make sure of it. Even if he did not want to, he would live until this child was born. He would make sure they were born, he would make sure they were alive, because he was an omega and omega’s fought for their children. Mothers fought for their children. Mothers died protecting their children. He narrowed his eyes at the approaching cougar, who opened her mouth and screeched again._

_‘Fight, Feliciano!’ The female voice shouted._

_Feliciano screamed, but it was not a sound of fear. It was a battle cry. The cougar leapt forward and tackled him right to the ground again. Her paws were huge as they pressed against Feliciano’s chest. The tips of her claws dug into the fabric of his shirt, and when she lowered her head and snarled, he could see himself in her golden eyes. Matted hair, hollow cheeks, and bright, anger filled eyes. There was a rush within him as he tried struggling beneath her, but she held on. She lifted an unsheathed paw, and he was helpless to stop it as she swiped it across his chest. He screamed again as it cut through fabric and skin._

_Golden blood seeped from the claw wound, but he did not think about it for two long. He couldn’t, or he would die. He hissed in effort as he lifted his legs and slammed them against her stomach, remembering the words Ludwig said long ago, “An animal’s weakness is in their stomach. That’s why domestic dogs never roll on the ground unless they full trust their master.” The stomach, ribs, and face. Those were the weak points of an animal. So Feliciano snarled, showed his fangs, and slammed his feet, with all his might, against the cougar’s stomach as he lifted an arm and punched her ribs. It was enough to shake her off, and he slipped from underneath her._

_Up, up, UP. He needed to stand up or he would be killed. With sweet smelling golden blood dripping from the wound, he stood again and whirled around to face the cougar. She snarled again, and he snarled right back. He would not back down. He would not be a coward right now, because mothers could not afford to be cowards. He pushed the dagger out in front of him and lowered his upper body, and then he shot forward. The cougar cried out one more time before she too charged. Feliciano’s feet tangled together when they got closer to one another, but it didn’t matter that he slipped, he was able to dig the dagger into the cougar’s shoulder. He pushed it as deep as he could inside, past muscle and tissue, and watched as red blood oozed out. He gave a shout of effort as he ripped the blade out and staggered back, away from the predator._

_She cried in pain as she, too, stumbled back. The wound continued to bleed, dripping over the grass and dirt, mingling with the golden blood already there. Her golden eyes lifted to Feliciano again, and she growled, leading him to brace himself again. Again and again, he would fight this beast. But she did not charge. A deep noise rumbled in her throat before she turned around and walked back to her cubs. They greeted her enthusiastically, rubbing against her legs with little mewls. For some reason, the sight calmed Feliciano. That cougar was just fighting to provide for her young, the same as he. They needed her alive, she would not unnecessarily fight to the death if she did not need to._

_The dagger slipped from Feliciano’s fingers. Immediately, he ran his hand over the wound. Four individual marks were right over the center of his chest, bleeding and aching. “Ah,” he gasped as he dipped his fingers inside to check the depth of them. The goddess has not abandoned him just yet, for they were not that deep. They would not kill him. He almost sobbed in relief._

_He blinked up at the cougar family again. The mother was nudging the cubs away without a backward glance until they were completely gone. For the time being, he had chased the predator off. Now… now, what? He looked up at the sky. It was after sun-high. What would be the point of staying here, in these mountains? Gilbert was most likely… dead. He had joined his brother. The probability that he were alive was low, because Gilbert did not leave like this. He would never abandon Feliciano, nor would he still be hunting. In fact, if he had not caught anything on that first day, he would have come back before nightfall. Gilbert, his brother, his close friend, the uncle of his child, was gone. And just like Ludwig, he died trying to do something for Feliciano. He decided then, right there, if he had a son, he would make sure to give him the middle name of Gilbert._

_Feliciano stumbled to the bloody mess on the ground, sank to his knees, and began lathering the red blood over his skin to conceal the omega and Fae scent on him. Hide him from potential threatening alphas, and from other predators prowling around. He did not stop until his neck, armpits, and arms were completely covered with a red sheen. His scent was covered by the cougar’s. Before he stood, he used the dagger to rip one leg of his pants and got to work creating a make-shift bandage for his wound. Later, when he got off this mountain, he would look for herbs. Until then, this would have to do._

_When he was finished, he stood back up and left. With a hollow heart, exhausted body, and empty mind, Feliciano started the long climb down the mountain. He would go back to the Orlon Forest, where he would answer the questions Lovino and Antonio had for him. Lovino would be so angry; Lovino hated shapeshifters. Who knows? Perhaps, if this child were a shapeshifter, Lovino wouldn’t even acknowledge him. Feliciano did not care._

_By the time Feliciano made it off the mountain, it was nightfall. The stars glittered above him, but Feliciano did not want to look at Mab or Oberon, because he would be reminded of the times he and Ludwig laid outside and watched them glow. He would think back to the night he was sitting up with Ludwig curled in his lap, with his head on Feliciano’s chest, and Feliciano slipped a piece of holly against his ear and named him the Holly King, and then in retaliation, Ludwig plucked one of the wildflowers and slipped it behind Feliciano’s ear and called him the Flora Queen. The night ended with hands exploring heated skin, and mouths laughing breathlessly against one another as they moved on the ground with the stars above them and nothing but greenery on their bodies._

_Feliciano would not look at the forest surrounding him, because he would think of the time Gilbert raced through the forest around Versteckt with the village children chasing him, claiming they would catch him and he would have to teach them how to use a bow. He would think of the many times he, Ludwig, and Gilbert walked to and from different markets, with him and Gilbert singing songs as Ludwig shook his head in exasperation._

_Everyone in Versteckt always told Ludwig, “You’ve found yourself a pack, boy. Make sure you take care of them.”_

_And he did. The tears streamed down Feliciano’s face as he slowly walked down a path adjacent to the merchant’s road, this one was in the forest, away from eyes and people. It was on this path, during this night, that he heard the mournful howl of a wolf in the mountains he just left. Feliciano closed his eyes. If he howled back, would that wolf know he understood? The pain of being alone, of losing everyone you loved, of being left and forgotten? He swallowed the lump in his throat and kept walking._

_It was not until he made it back to the Orlon Forest that he realized the iron cross was gone. During the fight with the cougar, it was ripped off. It took the physical efforts of both Lovino and Antonio to stop him from going back to retrieve it._

Feliciano pulled himself from the past as his story drew to a close. He spoke sparsely, basically just summarizing what had happened on that hot summer day so many years ago, but his mind relived the entire thing for him. Every detail, from the sights to the feelings inside him. It was the first time he had given such detail for someone before, and, as much as it pained him to do it, it felt good. There was an invisible weight lifted from him.

Gilbert was silent. Feliciano was not surprised, what could anyone possibly say in response to such a story. In the end, it was not Gilbert who broke the silence, but Elias. He stood from his spot by the fire and walked over to Feliciano. He wrapped his arms around Feliciano’s boney waist and pressed his face into his stomach.

“I saved you, _Mamma_,” Elias murmured. He only called Feliciano _Mamma_ when he was scared or upset. It pulled at Feliciano’s heart, but it was okay. Elias had heard part of the story before, after begging to hear about the clawed scar on his chest. “Right? Didn’t I?”

Feliciano smiled and stepped back to look into Elias’s eyes. “Of course you did, _mein kleiner_! You were my big, strong alpha before you were even born!” 

Elias smiled, the sight so beautiful and radiant, Feliciano felt like he could cry. His son was the light of his life, his glorious sunrise. True, he could be a storm, filled with booming thunder and sharp lightning, but when he smiled so beautifully like this, when he looked like a younger version of his father, he was the sun. Feliciano wrapped his arms back around Elias and kissed the top of his head.

With his lips pressed to Elias’s temple, he murmured, “_Ich liebe dich_.”

Elias wrapped his pinkie finger around Feliciano’s and squeezed it. “_Ich liebe dich auch, Mamma_.”

“You’ve taught him the language?” Gilbert’s voice was rough and quiet. When Feliciano glanced at him, his red eyes were bright. He looked like he was in so much pain. “The language of shapeshifters?”

“A little bit.” He carded his fingers through Elias’s hair. It fell past his ears now, but Elias claimed he wanted to grow it out even more because Fae warriors had long hair. He tucked a strand behind his rounded ears. “I’m not as good of a teacher as Ludwig was to me, but Elias is a quick learner. He knows bits of the Old Language too. Right?”

Elias glanced sideways at Gilbert with his face still pressed in Feliciano’s stomach. His scent did not sour like when he saw Gilbert earlier. It didn’t smell like anything. Elias shrugged. “I guess I know a little.”

“He’s humble.” Like his father. Oh, Elias did so many things like his father, without even realizing it. Brushing his hair back before doing something important, folding every piece of clothing on the ground, and helping Feliciano clean without a care in the world. Little quirks like that, the kind that could only be picked up hereditarily.

Gilbert chuckled. “Never stop being that, kid.”

Feliciano smiled a bit, and looked at the desk. There were plenty of smudge sticks now, mostly by his efforts. Half-way through his story, Gilbert stopped working because his hands started shaking. Currently, those hands were shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. “You don’t have to tell me today,” Feliciano said softly. “If you don’t want to. I understand, truly.”

“No.” He inhaled sharply. “No, Feli. I’ll tell you.”

And he did. There had been a large stream, and across the way there was a herd of deer. Without thinking, Gilbert leapt across the few stepping stones and slipped. His head knocked against one of the stones, rendering his body unable to move for a moment, but that single moment was all it took for him to get swept away by the current. It carried him down the mountain, and he still doesn’t know how long he laid in that pool at the bottom. By the time he found the strength to climb back up the mountain and get to the spot he left Feliciano in, there was nothing but dried golden blood, the heavy scent of a mountain lion, and an iron cross. The details here became sparse, because Gilbert claimed he did not remember much. He just remembered gripping the iron cross and feeling physical pain. He claimed to have wandered around until he collapsed in exhaustion. After sleeping, he picked himself up and headed for the town on the other side of the mountain’s base. By the time he finished his story, his voice shook with his body. He lowered his head.

“It’s my fault,” he muttered. “Again. If I hadn’t been so stupid and checked those damn stones before walking across, we wouldn’t have been separated. We could have stayed together.”

The hatred in his voice startled Feliciano. He never heard Gilbert speak in such away with those foul emotions directed at himself. It put him on edge. Before he could reassure the alpha, Gilbert spoke again, in a voice just a bit lighter. “For nine years, I stayed in this shack I built, making money by selling firewood in that town. I made friends with a gryphon chick later on, and for a long time, it was us against the world.” Feliciano’s eyes widened, because Gilbert’s eyes sparked in a memory, with so many emotions he never saw from the alpha before, but it different from earlier. These emotions were new, but they were beautiful, the king reserved for speaking of someone important. “And then, one night last month, this eighteen year old kid walked into the tavern I frequented. He kept looking at me, and as it turns out, he was looking _for_ me. I thought he was the stupidest man alive when he asked me straight up where the Fae in Avalon were hiding. Hell, I nearly tore his throat out. But then he started spouting this nonsense, like he had to find the Fae to save Esmya, and shit like that. I thought him delusional, but before I could really teach him a lesson, I heard my gryphon in the forest and knew he was in trouble. The brat went with me because he heard an animal in trouble and wanted to help. We were able to get to the gryphon with the stupidest plan; he’s got this staff, right? As soon as I touched it, the runes began glowing. We used _that_ to lure these poachers away. It was actually hilarious. After that, I took him to my house. One thing led to another and…” Gilbert’s eyes darkened, like an unwanted memory had resurfaced. He shook it off. “Well, here we are. The kid got me on board with this whole ‘saving Esmya’ crap, and now we’re on a righteous quest.”

Feliciano remembered a winter evening in Versteckt, as Gilbert told him whoever he mated with would tell him they’re going on an adventure across Esmya. He exhaled. “Oh.” So Matthew was… The scent on Matthew had been filled of Govert’s and Manon’s magic, so he could not detect any of Gilbert’s scent on Matthew earlier, but it must be there, if the two were mates. Finally. Gilbert found happiness. “How wonderful, Gil. So you truly believe in everything he is saying now?”

The quivering of Gilbert’s voice ceased the longer he spoke of this beta named Matthew. He shrugged with a tiny smile on his face. “It sounds insane, Feli, but he proved himself to be a seer. He’s looking for these people to save Esmya from that bastard Avalonian king, and, get this, they’re based off of characters from those Arthurian legends. Merlin, Gawain, Arthur, all them? _That’s_ who he’s looking for, cause apparently the Once and Future King will appear when Avalon needs him most.”

Elias let go of Feliciano and stepped closer. “King Arthur? Like, the sword king?” He blinked up at Feliciano with wide eyes. “He’s real?”

Gilbert chuckled softly. “Apparently. That’s who Matthew’s trying to find.”

The wonder on Elias’s face grew, though it looked like he was trying to hide it. “Govert likes those stories. He’s always telling them to me.”

“Really?” Gilbert grinned. “Who’s your favorite?”

In an instant, excitement exploded around Elias as he stood on his tip-toes and gave a little bounce. “Lancelot! He’s so cool! Like how he took down that bad guy in that castle and found the tomb with his name scrawled in it? That was awesome. And-and he slayed that dragon! Oh, and the Holy Grail! He and Galahad found it together!”

Feliciano laughed and ruffled the top of Elias’s hair. “He’s a big fan of knights. I can’t tell you how many times he’s begged Govert to tell him those stories. One right after the other.”

Elias’s face turned a bit scarlet as he stopped his bouncing. “Govert knows those legends aren’t something to laugh at.”

“I know it too.” Feliciano gently pulled a strand of Elias’s hair. “I just find your excitement cute.”

“Alphas can’t be cute!”

Gilbert grinned. “Well, kid, you’re in luck. Lancelot is real.”

That not only struck Elias’s interest, but Feliciano’s as well. He was not entirely sure if Gilbert was saying it just to play with Elias, or if he were being serious. At their surprised expressions, Gilbert continued. “Matthew would do a helluva lot better job explaining this, but for now you’re stuck with me.” He took a deep breath as Feliciano and Elias leaned forward in anticipation. “Matthew had this vision of an army of hellish creatures being led by King Alexander, and it was met with this army led by a man with a flaming sword. There were a few people standing right by him, and they each had names of Arthurian characters. Matthew was told by someone in his vision that these were the people meant to save Esmya, and that he had to find each of them. Turns out, Matthew is Merlin, that all powerful wizard that helps King Arthur. Then, when he found me, he told me I was Gawain. I didn’t believe him until…” He trailed off, looking uncertain.

“What?” Elias whispered, creeping forward. “What made you believe him?”

“I had a dream,” he murmured. “Something happened, and I was knocked unconscious, and I thought I was dead, but I wasn’t. This man was crouched beside me, with silver hair, and black and red armor. His eyes were identical to mine, but I don’t know if I realized it at the time. He told me I had been found.” Something tickled the back of Feliciano’s head. “The guy told me I needed to follow Merlin, and then, when he stood up he transformed into me. I was standing there in that armor, but I wasn’t because I was still laying on the ground. He called me Gawain the White Wolf, and then I woke up.”

_Follow Merlin, Elain the Faerie._

Feliciano’s eyes widened. No, he was… no, that couldn’t be. That dream had been some fever-induced illusion brought on by the strong herbs he consumed. It wasn’t real, he established that a long time ago. There was a tiny voice in the back of his head that whispered, ‘_Why do you remember it if you didn’t think it was real_?’

“Wow.” Elias’s jaw was practically on the ground. “You’re _Gawain_? He’s the one who found the Green Knight and chopped his head off! Have you actually seen the Green Knight?”

“Not yet, kid, but I’ll let you know when I… Feli? You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Feliciano blinked his thoughts away when he took in Elias’s curious expression, and Gilbert’s concerned one. He was being foolish. He chuckled softly and leaned against the desk. “Oh, no! Sorry! I was just thinking. I mean, after I gave birth to Elias, I had the strangest dream. There was this beautiful Faerie looking at me, and I thought she was, like, my mother or someone coming to take me to the afterlife, but it wasn’t.” He laughed again, and it sounded weird to his own ears. For some reason, his skin was prickling uncomfortably. “She told me I needed to follow this man named Merlin and… and then she turned into me, called me Elain the Faerie, and left. Weird, huh? We had the same dream!”

The way Gilbert’s expression fell from concerned to nothing to then shock would have been comical if it didn’t freak Feliciano out so much. He started stumbling back, away from the desk and toward the doorway leading to the little foyer. “Elain?”

Feliciano and Elias exchanged a glance. “Yes.” He tilted his head to the side. “Are there any Elain’s in the stories?”

“There’s actually a lot!” Elias said with a hint of pride in his voice. “One of them died because she loved Lancelot so much, and the other was Galahad’s mother!”

“Oh.” Feliciano smiled a bit, though he wasn’t sure why. He just didn’t really know what else to do, and Gilbert was starting to weird him out. “That’s interesting.”

Suddenly, Gilbert flapped his arms around like a bird. “W-wait here. I need to find Matthew, but just- oh, gods, I swear if _you’re_ Elain, that is… Gods, wait there!” And then, Gilbert turned around and ran out of the cottage, leaving Elias and Feliciano to watch him go with wide eyes.

Having absolutely no idea what that was about, Feliciano looked at his son. “So… that was your uncle.”

“He’s okay.” Elias shrugged. “I like that he knows so much about King Arthur. Maybe we can meet the Green Knight together. Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Before Feliciano could speak, there was a loud crackle from the center of the room. His eyes widened when he saw the iron broiler was turning red from the heat. “Oh, no! Elias, I told you to watch the beeswax!”

“W-wha-? That wasn’t my fault! You guys were talking about important stuff and I wanted to listen!”

“Just- here! Give me those pieces of cloth- _Don’t you dare touch that boiler_!”

.

“… That’s why I’m here. The _Fabula_ is supposed to have the whereabouts of King Arthur. It is of vital importance to the future of Esmya.”

By the time Matthew finished speaking, his throat was parched. Since he and the five Fae sat around a fire pit of stone, in a hut with an opened top, he had been telling them everything: the vision nine years ago, the staff that began glowing afterward, his vision of the _Fabula_, and his meeting of Gilbert. It was a lot, but, aside from Lovino’s occasional scoff, they let him speak without any interruptions. It would not matter how much he told them if they did not believe him. If they didn’t believe him, Matthew did not want to think of what would happen. He was terrified.

Throughout the entire meeting, Catalina smiled softly with her eyes on him. It should have disturbed him, but there was such wisdom within them. Adhan always told him you could see the age of a Fae in their eyes, and it was obvious she was correct. Compared to the eyes of the other four here, Catalina’s held a quiet knowledge. They were so different from human eyes, and so hard to describe. She leaned back and spread her hands.

“What does my council think?”

Lovino was quick to speak first. “I think that’s a bunch of bull.” His hazel gaze narrowed as he regarded Matthew, who tried not to shrink under the scrutinizing stare. “Look at him, he’s just a kid! Why would someone put the fate of our world in his hands?”

Govert, who was seated at Matthew’s side, did not look as angry. As he spoke, puffs of mist came from his mouth. “How else would he know about the _Fabula_? Aside from us, the only ones who even know of its existence are seers. Besides, why would someone lie about this? Why go through the possibility of being caught by Avalon and hanged for nothing but a lie?”

Matthew was grateful for this Faerie. He was clearly very kind, past the rough looking exterior. Lovino rolled his eyes but did not press the matter further. Antonio and Manon stared at him thoughtfully, their gazes unreadable. Catalina did not wait any longer for a reply.

“About fifty years ago, someone gave me the _Fabula_,” she murmured softly. Matthew resisted the urge to jump for joy like a child. Finally, he was going to figure out how a group of Fae held an artifact as rare as this book. “I was traveling through the tribes before Avalon took them over. I ran into an old friend and was offered a place to stay in his cottage. During my time there, I spoke with his mate. She was a seer with dark skin and violet eyes, an Elementatlist of fire, if I’m remembering correctly. She handed me a book wrapped in cloth. I did not like the book, the weight it placed on my hands was not a physical one, I could tell. There was a strange, dark magic coming from it, and when I asked her about it she told me every tool that has the ability to see in the future is infused with black magic.”

Did that include seers themselves? The question sat uncomfortably inside Matthew as Catalina continued speaking.

“She told me I am to hold on to until one comes looking for it. It is called the _Fabula_, and it is a book used by select seers in order to keep track of prophecies. If Fate wills it, it will be found by a seer.” She looked to one of the shelves in the hut, and Matthew followed her gaze. There was something wrapped around red cloth in the corner. He could feel a tug, like the thing beneath it was calling to him. Could it be…? So close to him? “I asked why she was giving it to me, and she said I will know in time. I left my friend’s cottage with the book in my satchel, curious to know end. I tried opening it, but it never worked. It was like the cover was glued shut.” She shrugged. “If the seer who gave it to me was correct, then this book was meant to be found by you, Matthew.”

The words chilled Matthew to the bone. Like so many other events, this one seemed to be prophesized. This book was meant to be found by him. He could barely keep from trembling in anticipation. He took a deep breath that he hoped was not too noticeable, and looked back at Catalina.

“Please.” He steeled his voice was best as he could. “Esmya needs to know the contents of the _Fabula_. Without it, I cannot find the Once and Future King.”

Catalina’s smile faltered this time. Matthew hesitated. Had he said something wrong? The Faerie stood up, and slowly made her way to the corner of the hut. The other Fae gathered seemed to hold their breath as she picked the clothed object up, and Matthew was no exception. All eyes were on her as she carried the book back to her seat and sat down. Matthew was itching to reach over and snatch it up, but if he did that, he wouldn’t have any sort of chance at reading it. Catalina ran her hand across the cloth, her eyes far away.

“Have you ever had any sort of vision of someone known as the Faerie Queen?” she asked.

Through the opening of the hut, a cold wind traveled through. Matthew did not miss the way the four other Fae shivered, and he did as well. The Faerie Queen, the title given to Raetia’s queen. “I have not. I apologize, I know that is someone every Fae wishes would appear.”

“An understatement,” Lovino mumbled. Antonio silently took his hand.

Catalina looked up at the sky through the opening of the hut as darker clouds continued to smother the sun. “Have you heard of the last words Queen Mab spoke before leaving this world for the next?”

Matthew shook his head. Adhan never told him of such a thing. Upon realizing Catalina was not looking at him, he opened his mouth to actually say ‘no’, but she started speaking before he could. _“In your hour of need, a Faerie Queen sharing my blood of the Sun and the Moon will come forward and sit on my throne. They will be found by a Wayward Faerie with eyes of burning amber, who hides inside a forest of oak and ash, who must travel far and wide in order to find what was never truly lost. Fair and beautiful will thy Queen be, with a long line of honed magic flowing in their veins. Like a flower, they will bloom, and be one part of the half that shall restore peace to this land. Your Spring Queen will come in time, together with the King of Flame.”_ Her eyes were bright when she looked back down and stared directly at Matthew. “The Faerie Queen will help this King of Flame restore peace to our lands.”

The breath caught in Matthew’s throat. “Flame,” he whispered. “In my vision, the king held a sword of fire, and that king was meant to be King Arthur.” Oh, gods… There would be another ruler that would join this fight, another monarch meant to stand beside the Once and Future King and banish King Alexander’s darkness. “They must be found, too.”

“But not by you,” Manon said. “By the Wayward Faerie.”

“We just have to find them,” Lovino grumbled.

Matthew narrowed his eyes in concentration as he looked at the unlit fire pit. A wayward Fae with eyes of burning amber… in a forest of oak and ash. Wayward meant something that was not normal, almost a deviant form of behavior. If one were to be considered a wayward Faerie, it could mean they went against the ideals of Fae society, or the rules laid down upon the centuries. _Like having a child with a shapeshifter_. And they were apparently living in a forest of oak and ash, trees sacred to the Fae… which were the very trees that made up the Orlon Forest. _The place where he’s living_. Eyes of amber, he had seen eyes of amber before. _Just hours earlier, after he woke up_. He slowly looked up and found Catalina’s eyes boring straight into his. She gave a slight nod of her head. Catalina already knew who the Wayward Faerie was and now, Matthew did too.

“He must join us,” Matthew whispered.

Catalina’s smile was sad. “I know. In fact, I let him go the first time because I selfishly believed he would find the Faerie Queen.”

The first time he left, however long ago that had been. Matthew ran a hand through his hair. He was in charge of finding the Once and Future King, and he would be joined by the one meant to find the Faerie Queen. They would guide their King and Queen to battle, they would build their courts, and they would be the ones working in the shadows. Gods. Extraordinary. A thrill went through him. Finally, he was getting somewhere.

“Does he know?”

Catalina shook her head. “No. I am afraid he will not believe me.”

The four other Fae did not seem to know either. Lovino glared suspiciously from Matthew to Catalina. “Who are you talking about?”

_“Birdie!_” Matthew’s heart leapt into his throat from the sudden call of his name. Everyone turned their heads when Gilbert practically crashed into the hut, with a very angry looking Enzo behind him. Enzo was trying to yell at Gilbert, but he didn’t seem to care. As soon as those red eyes landed on Matthew, something in his chest sped up. Gilbert did not look upset, in fact, he looked elated. “Birdie, Birdie, you have to come now.”

Matthew tried not to get embarrassed by Gilbert calling him such a name in front of these important Fae. “Gil, we’re in the middle of-”

“I found Elain.”

That shut him up. Immediately, Matthew stood, along with Catalina. They all knew of the people he was to find; they also knew Matthew was apparently Merlin, and Gilbert Gawain. And now, if they found someone called Elain, it meant they were here, in this village. In his vision, Elain had been Fae. He looked to Catalina, who nodded. “Who?”

Gilbert laughed and shook his head. He looked like he was about to fall over. “_Feliciano_.”

Now Lovino stood. “What?”

Feliciano was Elain? Matthew grabbed his staff. It glowed for Gilbert, perhaps it would glow for Feliciano as well. He met Gilbert’s eye, and felt himself smile. Gilbert smiled back. “Let’s go.”

Matthew was not expecting Lovino to march out before them, but there seemed to be no stopping the small Fae as he stalked toward the cottage. Matthew and Gilbert moved next, with Catalina and Antonio behind them. The entire time, Gilbert waved his hands around as he told Matthew what he knew, with his arm brushing Matthew’s every now and then. “And it was just like me- a person is telling them to follow Merlin, the person turns into us, and then they say the title. Like, mine! Gawain the White Wolf, but Feli said he was called Elain the Faerie.”

Lovino was already inside the cottage by the time Matthew and Gilbert made it. Gilbert led Matthew into a small room that smelt heavily of herbs, with Feliciano crouched in the middle of the room next to Elias. They were putting things into a little boiler, with Lovino standing over them.

Feliciano blinked in surprise. “Oh, um? Hello?”

The room seemed much smaller now that they were all inside. If Govert and Manon had followed, there wouldn’t be any more room. Matthew forced himself to stay calm. The last thing he needed was to frighten Feliciano, and Elias, who was staring at the gathered group with narrowed eyes. It was more than clear this boy was very protective of his mother.

“Hello, Feli,” Catalina said softly. “Can you stand up?”

“Sure?” Feliciano did. His gaze landed on Matthew, and he gasped. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, the salve should be ready in about thirty minutes. I didn’t know I would see you again so soon, but don’t worry! I’m making enough for four vials, that way, if it flames up again, you will have more than enough!”

Touched, and quite surprised, Matthew was not entirely certain what to say. He ungracefully squeezed past Gilbert so he was standing in front of Feliciano. He smiled at the kind Fae. “I’m in your debt.” He inhaled softly. “Gilbert told me about your dream, the one where someone called you Elain the Faerie.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened. “I don’t think it’s important.”

“On the contrary, Feli.” Matthew recalled the Elain in his vision, the one who stood at Lancelot’s right and charged into battle after him. “I believe you and your dream are very important for the future of Esmya.”

Silence followed this statement. The wind blew fluttered a blanket beside the only window in the room, the fire crackled within the center, and the scent of burning ginger and honey were heavy in the air. These sights, smells, and sounds fell away as Matthew looked into Feliciano’s eyes of amber, as he tried to understand what the Fae was thinking. With widened eyes and pale cheeks, it was quite clear he did not believe Matthew’s statement. His words confirmed it.

“O-oh.” He brushed some hair behind his pointed ears, and shrugged with a tiny smile on his face. “I’m flattered any of you think that, but I’m… oh, goddess. Look at me. I’m nothing that important!” His smile fell as he looked at Matthew, then Gilbert, and then his brother. “Anyone who knows me knows I’m not cut out for something like that. I mean, Gil, he told me about what kind of quest you guys are on. Saving Esmya? I couldn’t even-” His voice faltered. “-save my mate. How… There’s no way I could save an entire continent! No, I’m quite sure it is someone else. Oh! Like Lovino!” He whirled on his brother. “Lovi, you’re so brave and strong, if anyone is meant to save Esmya, it’s you!”

Lovino’s eyes glistened. He picked up a gentle hand to cup Feliciano’s cheek. “Don’t say such stupid things about yourself.”

“So you believe Matthew?!”

“I never said that.” Lovino sighed, and dropped his hand. He glared at Matthew and Gilbert. “Honestly, I don’t know what to believe, but I think this is something worth proving.”

Antonio stepped forward at Gilbert’s other side. “I fully agree! Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Feliciano seemed to be at a loss. He blinked back at Matthew, his eyes still wide and filled with a bit of terror. “If… If you’re right, then what does that mean? What will happen to me?”

Matthew never felt such pity before. This kind Faerie did not need to feel such terror; he desperately wanted to reassure him. He smiled softly. “We’ll talk about that later. For now, I need to figure out if you really are Elain, and we’ll go from there.” He tilted his head to the side. “Is that okay?”

“Will it hurt?”

Matthew’s smile widened. “Not at all, I promise you.”

Feliciano chewed his bottom lip as his hands laced together. He slowly pulled at them while his expression held one of deep concentration and a hint of fear. He closed his eyes as his hand traveled to his wrist, where the black ribbon was tied. He ran his fingers along the fabric in such a loving manner, Matthew wondered if he should look away. Once his eyes were open, he stopped. “Okay. I’m ready.”

With a nod, Matthew handed his staff to Feliciano. He took it with two hands and brought it close to his chest. Elias scrambled to his feet in wonder as everyone gather leaned forward to get a better look. A second passed, then another, and another, but nothing happened. Gilbert growled. “What the hell? It glowed for me!”

Matthew dug his teeth into his nail. They could all be wrong, perhaps Feliciano was not Elain. Perhaps Elain was another Faerie hiding in a forest identical to this one, or perhaps they were here in the Orlon Forest. There was always the possibility it was someone else. Feliciano blinked at the staff. “I don’t think-”

The entire staff was suddenly engulfed by a golden light. It wasn’t just the runes, it was everywhere. Even the antler-like top was taken over by the explosive light. Gilbert actually laughed breathlessly, but Matthew could not make a sound. Such light… why was it glowing so much now? It did not look like this when Gilbert touched it. Could it have something to do with Feliciano’s Fae blood? And just as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished. It slithered like a snake around the entirety of the staff before disappearing into the runes. Everyone exhaled.

“That,” Antonio breathed, “was awesome.”

Lovino shook his head. “Does that mean..?”

“I’m Elain?” Feliciano finished. He stared at the staff like it had suddenly sprouted three heads. “How does it know?”

“I can’t answer that,” Matthew murmured softly. “I’m sorry. But it glowed brighter for you than it did for Gilbert. I am not entirely sure why, but I _am_ pretty sure that means you’re Elain.” He smiled. “You, Feliciano, are Elain the Faerie.”

Feliciano blinked at the staff once more, than at Matthew. He hesitantly smiled, and handed the staff back to Matthew. “I don’t really know what that means, but I guess…” He trailed off, shrugged, and shook his head. “I have a lot of questions.”

Matthew was ready to reassure him, but before he could, everything around him fell away. He was no longer standing in the cottage. He was suspended in the air, caught in some kind of net with two other people pressed against him. Panic seized him and he tried to move, but nothing happened. It was too tight of a net. There was a growl right beside his ear that sounded just like Gilbert. He shouted something, but Matthew could not make it out. Someone pressed their hands against Matthew’s chest, feeling small enough to belong to a child, but he could not be sure. The faces of the two inside the net with him were shrouded by shadows, and they were at such an odd angle that he could not even make out their clothing.

He tried to gain his surroundings instead, and saw they were at the edge of some forest. Too close for comfort, there was a huge dip in the ground, leading to the gods only know what. And standing by that edge were three people. One was a man dressed in black, with a long flowing leather jacket and hat, and in his leather grip was a whip. Across from him, Feliciano stood. In a red tunic, brown tights, and the biggest sword Matthew has ever seen in his grip. How was he even holding it? The third individual was kneeling behind Feliciano. He, too, was dressed in black, in a uniform Matthew has seen before, but he could not, for the life of him, remember where. It didn’t matter.

The man in black unfurled his whip, and smacked it against the ground. “Fine, _mutt_. I’ll just have to whip that pretty little omega of yours first, and then I’ll move on to you.”

Feliciano lifted the blade, and with a snarl that shook Matthew to the core, screamed, “_You aren’t ever laying a hand on him again!_” With the sword in his hands, Feliciano charged the man in black. The man laughed, raised the whip, and everything around them exploded in white.

Matthew staggered back, shocked. A vision of the future? He blinked a couple of times. When he met Gilbert’s eyes after the staff glowed, he saw a vision of Gilbert leading a queen and king down the streets. Now Matthew had seen a vision of, what? Feliciano defending someone? The rage in his voice chilled Matthew. How could such a kind Fae be capable of that amount of anger? Who was he protecting? Who was he fighting? And where on earth had he found such a sword?

“Birdie?” Matthew slowly turned to Gilbert when he felt a hand against his back. “You okay?”

Matthew forced himself to smile. It was pointless to stand around and ask questions that could not be answered just yet. “I’m fine. This is just a lot to take in.”

Gilbert smiled a little. The look was reassuring enough that Matthew had the inexplicable urge to fall into Gilbert’s chest and let the man hold him. He swallowed back the rising desire in his throat at such an image. Gods, did he need to sleep. He looked back at Feliciano. “I’m sorry. I promise I will answer every question you have.”

“But that will have to wait.” Catalina cleared her throat. “The _Fabula_ is calling.”

Slowly, the words sank in. He turned around to stare at Catalina in shock. Once again, the Faerie nodded. She was going to allow him access to the mythical book. He straightened. “Indeed, it is.”

In a matter of minutes, Matthew, Gilbert, and the others were in the hut once more, with Feliciano and Elias present this time. Matthew sat on one of the logs with the book in his laps. The others were around him, waiting attentively. To his right, Feliciano sat with wide eyes, and to his left, Gilbert eagerly leaned closer. His hand was on the small of Matthew’s back for some reason. And _for some reason_, Matthew was comforted by the touch. He peeled the cloth back, and there it was.

A dark brown, leather bound book greeted him. Somehow, it looked brand new, without a scratch on it, but if it were as ancient as he were to guess, it should look worn and damaged. It should be falling apart, but it wasn’t. It was skinny too, despite looking like it had thousands of pages. Magic, then. Across the front in gold paint was one word: _Fabula_. It called to him, he could feel it. The darkness that sang sweet songs and beckoned him to open it. It would open for only those with the Sight, for it would be their companion, their guide. He held his breath. Inside, there would be the whereabouts of King Arthur. At long last, Matthew was making progress. Without another word, he flipped the cover back.

Black pages greeted him, with golden writing across them. He leaned his head back in surprise as the strings of sentences suddenly lifted off the pages and swirled around, creating images. The words did not need to be there, they were already in Matthew’s mind. The golden sentences formed the image of a sword in a stone. Behind the sword in the stone, a figure was created with a crown on top of his head. Matthew started saying the words entering his mind.

_“There will be a man with fire racing through his veins who will come forward to pluck Excalibur from his stone. Arthur, king of men, the rightful ruler of Avalon, will be found by Merlin.”_

Another figure appeared, this one wearing a flowing garb with a pointed hat on his head. He held a staff in his hand and lifted it above his head as the other figure gripped the hilt of the sword and pulled it back. It was released from its prison, and it too was raised in the air.

_“He will be joined by many… Lancelot the Strong, breaker of chains, and defender of Raetia.”_ Another figure appeared, this one with a wolf at his side. He raised his bound fists and snapped the chain clean off. _“Gawain the White Wolf, follower of Merlin, and light of Esmya.”_ Another figure appeared, this one with a bow clutched in his hand. _“Elain the Faerie, Wayward Faerie, and guardian of peace.”_ This was the first female to appear, and light danced at her fingertips.

_“There will be more. King Arthur is nothing without his iron toothed queen, Guinevere, dragon of Avalon.”_ Another woman appeared, with daggers protruding from her nails. _“And what of Galehaut and Tristan? Beaten into submission, but rising from the ashes behind their king in order to fight for their land. Or Kay, brother of Guinevere? Lead your rebellion quietly, carefully. Or Bedievere, silent spy of Camelot? They must be found, they all must be shown the light.”_

Another female figure appeared, with a male and female behind her. There was such glorious light radiating from her, it was like the sun. _“There will be a Faerie born of the Sun and Moon, with light dancing at their fingertips. The Faerie Queen will join the fight, found by the Wayward Faerie, and together with her court of the Morrigan and the Dagda, she will stand with the Once and Future King.”_ Every figure stood together, the knights, the king, the queen, everyone, as black figures of shadow surrounded them. They bounced on the beings of light. _“Only together can the darkness of Esmya be vanquished.”_

The figures of light exploded, taking out every figure of shadow until they were the only ones left. Slowly, they faded back into the strings of golden sentences, and were laid back down upon the black pages. Matthew gasped as the words he had been somehow known to say left him completely. He placed a hand on his head, dizzy with exhaustion. The others stared at the book in absolute shock.

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Elias whispered.

Antonio and Lovino were on their feet, pacing and muttering. Govert and Manon were whispering to each other. Gilbert was shaking his head, laughing. “This is all real,” he whispered. “Every gods damn thing is real.”

Matthew’s fingers were shaking as he flipped the page. As soon as he touched the page, more words formed, right across the top. In cursive golden text, it read, _PHILLIP JONES PENDRAGON_. Immediately, he flipped the page to another one. No. No, not that name. No one here could ever read that name. Somehow the book recognized his birth name, not the one given to him by Adhan, or the gods. Perhaps it could see they possessed the same type of magic. Matthew shivered, and then he shivered again when he thought of what these Fae would do to him if they realized who his father was. Or what Gilbert would do.

“This is incredible,” Catalina whispered. “You can find the king now!”

“I can.” Matthew’s mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He could do it.

“Well?” Gilbert patted his back. “What are you waiting for? Where’s this bastard King Arthur?”

Ignoring the shameful guilt of reading his real name, Matthew smiled at his friend and pulled back page after page. He scanned every word on them, one right after the other. He skipped over ones speaking of Gawain and Merlin, of Lancelot and Elain, and of Galehaut and Tristan. He paused on the ones whispering of Arthur. There were so many, one right after the other. He was flipping through, trying to find the words, until he reached the end. No, that couldn’t be the only pages. That was only thirty pages. He narrowed his eyes. No matter, magic could be tricky. It was obvious these were the only pages he needed right now, so the book would not show him anymore.

Flipping back to the beginning, Matthew started again. He made sure to triple check the pages speaking of Arthur. Excalibur, king, wars, expulsion of darkness… Lady of the Lake, his love for Guinevere, his adventures with Lancelot… okay, fine. Very good. _Where was he_?

The others around him began rustling. Feliciano leaned forward, his eyes widening. “Is everything okay?”

No. No, no, no. No, his vision told him the _Fabula_ would lead him to King Arthur, but there was nothing in here that said where it was this king was hiding. In fact, there was so little information, it was almost pathetic. It didn’t say where to find Lancelot, or Guinevere, or Galehaut. It said one line of the Faerie Queen, and that was it. This grand book Matthew expected to find, a book that would give him the answers to this quest, was practically non-existent.

“Birdie?” Gilbert whispered.

Matthew looked up. Frustrated tears welled in his eyes, and he did not try to hide them as he slowly turned his head to look at Gilbert. He shook his head as Gilbert took his hand. “Nothing, Gil,” he whispered. “It doesn’t tell me where King Arthur is. It tells me absolutely nothing.”

He was right back where he started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy. This chapter is filled with crazy shit. Get excited because starting with the next chapter, things really pick up. Two new characters are introduced (who may or may not be knights of the round table), and the chapter where my personal favorite character makes his introduction is getting closer! (I mean, he's already been introduced but, well, heh...)
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> _-Lupa_: Italian word for she-wolf
> 
> -There are many references to more Arthurian knights like Tristan, Bedivere, and Kay, and I will go into much more detail for each of them when they make their debuts!
> 
> -Kay: Okay, well, I am going to talk about Sir Kay briefly. In this story, Sir Kay is the brother of Queen Guinevere. NO, in Arthurian canon, this is not true. Guinevere does not have any brothers or sisters in any story, but in my fic, Guinevere must have a brother. Thus, I decided to make Sir Kay the brother. In Arthurian canon, Sir Kay is King Arthur's adopted brother. If you are familiar with Disney's _Sword in the Stone_, you would have seen him. But, ah, don't think that's how he acted in the actual stories. In reality, Sir Kay was one of the first knights to join the Round Table, and was one of Arthur's most trusted knights. Once again, Disney screws up but, hey. What can you do?


	9. The Green Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the fool who never added a tag for the ScotFra relationship in this. Way to go me.
> 
> I have no idea what happened, but the morning after I posted chapter 8 (a mere five hours, might I add), ten more people gave this story kudos? And now there's almost 60 kudos, with almost 700 hits? I cannot thank you beautiful people enough. I hope no one is bothered by the amount of thanks I'm giving, I can't help it. I must let everyone know how special you are to me, damn. Now, please enjoy this chapter! Also, there is a Nordic cameo in the beginning of this chapter. They weren't even named, so I did not put them in the tags. They play massive roles in part 3 though, so stay tuned! And yes, Denmark and Norway are female in this ^^
> 
> Scotland- Allistor Kirkland
> 
> APH Celts (mentioned)- Bronwen Kirkland

_Avalon’s Merchant Road; Three days before Matthew and Gilbert’s arrival in the Orlon Forest._

The sun was a pale thing behind wispy gray clouds, hardly giving off any sort of warmth as Francis rode down the merchant road. He drew his pale blue jacket closed as the wind tore through him. Damn this Avalonian winter. The summers were soaking wet and the winters were unbearably windy and cold. How he mourned for the pleasant spring or the cool autumn. He dropped his hand back to his thigh when the wind died down. Unfortunately, there were more pressing matters at hand other than the disagreeable weather.

His white horse whinnied softly as a flock of birds took off in the surrounding forest, past the small rolling fields guarding the path. He smiled in reply, and leant a hand down to pat her neck. “You have no right to complain about the cold, not with your new costly blanket!”

He straightened in the saddle and tilted his head back to look up at the sky again. By this time next week, he would be in the Orlon Forest, exchanging news with Catalina Fernandez Carriedo. He was looking forward to the visit, as always, but these exchanges were never meant to be pleasant. Discussions of Alexander’s plans, the number of slaves brought in from all over Esmya, and the whereabouts of certain peoples, they were all things that needed to be talked about because this was a resistance created by Queen Ayiana herself. In the satchel slung across Francis’s side were letters written by his queen, all for Catalina. He smiled grimly to himself. As much as he enjoyed seeing the Fae, especially his good friend Antonio, he would prefer it if they never spoke again only if it meant peace would be restored in Esmya.

The distant sound of thundering hooves shook Francis from his thoughts, and he gently pulled the reins to draw his horse toward the side of the road. He glanced behind him to make sure the approaching horse did not bare a wagon. His eyes widened as he instead saw the familiar bay draft horse galloping down the road with his rider’s shock of red hair flying around in the wind. A part of Francis scolded himself for the jump his heart gave when he recognized just who was running after him. He did not pull the reins to ask for a halt, they could walk and talk.

The bay horse neighed loudly when his rider yanked his reins back as they pulled beside Francis, and started their own leisure pace. Francis did not look at the rider, the alpha Allistor Kirkland.

“I do hope you didn’t fly out of Bannockburn like that just to ask for my forgiveness,” Francis sighed with a flip of his ponytail. “We’ve talked about this, it’s over.”

“If you’d fuckin’ listen before startin’ on yer narcissistic bullshit,” Allistor growled out in a breathless voice. “This has nothing to do with that.”

Francis gave up and looked at Allistor, and was quickly startled into silence by his ragged appearance. Allistor’s hygiene was questionable, but the alpha at least attempted to allude a sense of presentable characteristics when he left his home of Bannockburn. Now, with his unkempt hair, unshaven face, and overall unwashed scent, it looked as if he had fled right after he awoke this morning. His dark brown pants and black tunic looked to be thrown on without any kind of preparation, seeing as his belt was missing and his brown boots were not buckled properly. He seemed to have forgotten a jacket, too. Even his horse, usually so beautiful as he worked in the fields, did not wear a saddle, just the reins. Francis’s heart jumped for an entirely different reason now.

“What’s happened?”

The anger drained from Allistor just as quickly as it appeared. His unwashed appearance made him look tired, and that really worried Francis. Allistor was like an unstoppable flood, always moving, and consuming everything in his path. He never faltered. To see him so exhausted was a strange and unwanted sight. Francis’s gloved hands tightened around the reins of his horse as he waited.

When Allistor spoke, his deep voice was quiet and edged. “Avalon has declared war on Norge.”

A beat of silence passed, then another, and another, until it dragged on for entirely too long. Francis stared at Allistor, too shocked to speak. He did not think he understood the words. Perhaps Allistor’s thick accent had gotten in the way and Francis mistook some other word for “war”, but from the tightened expression Allistor wore, he knew he had heard correctly. Avalon, the kingdom that had conquered Ishini, Raetia, and the tribes of shapeshifters and clans of Elementalists was now pointing her blade northeast, to the oldest kingdom on Esmya, where the Elves of old lived beyond the cold mountains. If Francis were not already sitting down, he would have fallen over. In fact, he might slip right out of the saddle.

“Who told you?” he whispered.

“Your mother.” Allistor frowned. “She ran into Bannockburn this morning before dawn, as crazy as a warhorse, and woke me with the news. It seems Ayiana’s suspicions were correct, Alexander was preparing for war.”

“Yes, but…” Francis shook his head. “But Ayiana suspected the war would happen in the next year, not today! It doesn’t make any sense.” He pressed a hand to his mouth as he thought of everything a country must do to prepare for such a feat. “There were no call to arms, and not a single knight in the palace has been practicing any kind of extra swordplay. And there are many shapeshifters who are absent due to missions from Alexander. They should at least be preparing.”

Francis glanced at Allistor to see if he would agree with his words, but instead of nodding, he narrowed his green eyes toward some useable thing in the distance. “Alexander has already shown off his shapeshifters. What he has not gotten to experiment with are those daemons of his.”

This was just getting better and better. Horror consumed Francis as he thought of those creatures of black he saw in the palace during moments he was spying. They were in the far depths of the catacombs, with skin that looked like leather. Some reminded him of lizards that could stand on two legs, others had lower bodies like snakes with little arms and large foreheads. There were a few with wings, and some with unhinged jaws. He knew Alexander was summoning and creating them from those books of black magic his father, the former King Uther, had acquired, but to build enough to assemble an army? His bowels turned watery at the thought.

“He will send his daemons to instill fear in Norge,” Francis breathed in understanding, “and then he will send human soldiers.”

Allistor grunted. “You were always so smart.” He sighed and lifted a pipe to his lips, something Francis had not even been aware he was holding. When the sweet smoke came from his lips, he spoke again. “It won’t just be human soldiers. Shapeshifters, them Iron Teeth witches, goblins, and every other creature he’s got on him. They will fight for the fall of Norge.”

Francis breathed out shakily. He has seen, more so than Allistor, the types of ruthless killers Alexander’s been accumulating. From alphas that could shift into the foulest of beasts, to once gentle omegas turned into creatures forced have their blood infused with the witches and dragons, with iron in their gums and nails… Elves were strong, swift, and skilled, but even they would eventually be knocked down by Avalon’s dark army.

“If Norge falls,” Francis murmured. “There will be no hope for Esmya. We will all be slaves.”

Allistor’s silence was louder than words. Glaceria would be the last kingdom left, but the nation to the northwest, directly north of the original Avalon, was not something to fight for. Aside from its capital of Voronsk and the towns surrounding it, there was just mountains and snow. Only one season existed in Glaceria. Aside from a few valuable resources, Avalon had no reason to invade.

“What of Glaceria?” Francis decided to ask. “Have they mobilized?”

“Hell should I know. Alexander and his fuckin’ army have only just left this morning for Norge.”

Oh, gods. They should get to Norge in two months, depending on how fast those things could move. And what then? The court of Norge was powerful, there were ballads written about the king, with her gleaming axe and hammer of thunder, and the queen, with her sightless eyes and conjurer abilities. Not to mention the king’s brother, the silent warrior who received the nickname Beowulf and commanded Norge’s fleet of ships, and his hawk-eyed mate who commanded the armies. They were all dreadfully powerful, but they were only four, and Norge’s power had dwindled over the many years, the reason as to why they did nothing to stop Raetia’s fall. This was not good.

It was like Allistor read his mind. “It’s a lot, but there is one good thing that could come from it.” Francis met his gaze and found it, that familiar wild gleam that never seemed to go out. It would be with him forever. “Alexander will have his hands filled with Norge, and will be absent from Camelot. What better time than to take Bannockburn back?”

Francis’s eyes widened. It’s what they had been working toward for so long. Bannockburn, the town directly north of Camelot, had been turned completely upside down for ten years. Alexander wanted someone he could trust put in charge of Camelot’s sister town, so he sent an old friend by the name of Lord Evans, with an army. They pushed Lord Bronwen Kirkland out of power with violence, snatched his young omega son from him, and declared House Kirkland to be no more than common pheasant folk instead of the lordship they once owned. Technically speaking, Lord Evans sat in Allistor’s seat. This happened all over Avalon, one town falling under complete and total control right after another. Bannockburn was actually the last to fall, and perhaps it was that reasoning that led many in the town to work in a rebellion, linked to the very same one in the Orlon Forest. All were loyal to Queen Ayiana, just like Francis. If they were to get control of Bannockburn, if they were to put Allistor Kirkland in power, then other towns would see it is doable. It would be the first ember to start a raging fire across the kingdom. They would need the help of the Fae in the Orlon Forest… Francis would need to talk to Catalina about this.

“We could do it,” Francis whispered as his mind turned over and over. “If we start preparing now, we could take Bannockburn out of Alexander’s grip.”

They looked at each other, and Allistor grinned like a devil. “I knew you’d be on board.”

Francis straightened his spine and looked away when their eyes continued to stay on one another for a minute too long. He dropped the reins in order fix the cravat hanging from his neck with hands that shook in anticipation. “I must hurry then. Catalina will need to hear about this as soon as possible, and with Alexander gone I can go between Bannockburn, Camelot, and the Orlon Forest without arising suspicion.”

Yes, as unfortunate as it was that these were the circumstances, this could work out in their favor. If Norge could hold together for, well, _those_ mythical figures, then this could be the start of a new era. He swallowed the excitement. It was useless being so excited over something that has absolutely no foundation.

“I will take my leave,” he said as he raised his heels to ask for a gallop. “We will talk soon.”

Right as his heels connected with his horse’s sides, Allistor shot forward and turned his horse so they were blocking Francis. His own horse bucked from the intrusion, and once Francis calmed her down, he glared heatedly at Allistor. “Move. I need to get going if we are to start planning anything.”

“There’s somethin’ you need to know.” Allistor’s voice held no room for argument, and yet there was a strain to it.

Francis narrowed his eyes at the weird dip in his voice. He lowered the reins and crossed his arms over his open, silky blue jacket. “Make it quick. And this better be important.”

“If you’d shut up and listen, you’ll see it actually is,” he spat. “One of our spies came back last night, an hour after you had departed.” That gleam was still there, but this time there was a storm brewing behind it. “That wolfen general and his ten soldiers are headed on a path that will take them directly to the Orlon Forest. If the spies are correct, they should be there in a week.”

Now this was something Francis found quite hard to believe. He frowned, a crease appearing between his eyebrows from the intensity of it. “That is ridiculous. General Beilschmidt is on a mission to see why…” Oh. His stomach churned ever so uncomfortably when he recalled just what it was the shapeshifting general was supposed to be looking for. “Someone is asking questions about the Fae in Avalon.”

Now Allistor looked horrified. “What?”

“I warned Catalina about it last month, but she didn’t seem that concerned!” he exclaimed. “She just promised to keep an eye out, and that was it.”

“You didn’t tell me!” Allistor was shouting now. “That is vital information!”

From the tone Allistor used, Francis’s horror became to dissipate, with irritation and anger replacing it, two very recent feelings he had whenever he spoke to Allistor. “Why would you need to know that? So you could go hunt the general? I was ordered by Ayiana to stay silent as to not cause a stir. You know how strange she gets when General Beilschmidt is brought up!”

The shapeshifter General who could turn into a dire black wolf. He was Alexander’s best soldier, according to, well, anyone who saw the shifter command and fight. Whether he was a human or wolf, he bested whoever stepped forward to challenge him. The man was a standing army by himself.

“You would’ve told me before,” Allistor growled quietly.

“I do not blabber Ayiana’s secrets to anyone. Allistor,” he shot back. In a quieter voice, he added, “Not even you. My loyalty to Ayiana is stronger.”

“Yes,” Allistor’s growl had quieted too. Francis preferred it when the alpha was screaming, snarling, and huffing, not muttering like this. “It has always been stronger.”

The pain in Francis’s heart physically grew as he regarded the other in front of him. Allistor, so strong, so wild, and, for all Francis could claim to deny, so beautiful. To Francis, this alpha was the most beautiful person in the entire world. They spent so many nights together, tangled in the bed of Allistor’s small house in Bannockburn with laugher and moans on their lips, but that was in the not-so-long-ago past. It was time to move on. He started to guide his horse around Allistor.

“You know about General Beilschmidt now, so leave. I will keep an eye on him, and do better to warn Catalina this time.”

This time, Allistor reached forward and grabbed Francis’s arm. Francis hissed as he pulled the reins for a halt while his upper body was turned abruptly to face the other. Allistor did not let go of him as he snarled softly, “If that general finds you in the Orlon Forest with those Fae, he will make sure you are dragged back to Camelot in chains.”

Francis met Allistor’s stare evenly. Overprotective bastard alpha. “I have spoken to General Beilschmidt before. For all his power, he is a kind man, a good alpha. He would never bring someone to Alexander-”

“He is not a kind man with that collar on.” Allistor squeezed his arm. “He is wearing it, and while that damn thing is around his neck, I don’t care how well you “know” him, you won’t recognize him. I have heard what he is like while wearing it; he can twist every bone in your body while keeping you alive to pry information from you. He is the most ruthless predator, and he does not care for anyone or anything, not with that thing on. And no one but Alexander can take it off.” The bastard actually looked smug. “Have I forgotten anything?”

It was Francis’s turn to snarl. “You have forgotten that I live in the palace with him, I have seen him with and without that collar on. Even when he wears it, he keeps well away from Fae prisoners. He never expresses any sort of interest in them, never, and because of that little piece of information, I have to believe your spies are wrong. I am still going to tell Catalina, and if you would stop speaking to me and go home, I could be on my way to warn her. Now, Allistor.” He bared his teeth. “Let me go.”

At first, Allistor didn’t. Slowly, with his eyes still on Francis, he took his hand away. His grip had been so tight, it may have actually left a mark. “Fine,” he growled. “Maybe if you run into the general, you can cock your hip, flutter your eyelashes, and act like some sultry omega. You know, like you do with all alphas?”

The punch delivered to Allistor’s face could have been harder. It could have broken his nose, it could have bruised his jaw, but it would do neither. Francis could not hurt the one he loved so deeply too badly. But he could get angry. He could hate the man just as strongly as he loved him.

“My bedroom is no longer your concern,” he growled. “And get those silly thoughts out of your head. If you’ve heard what the general is capable of, you must have heard of his lack of libido. Or has your stupid alpha brain forgone that information to make room for insane jealousy?” Francis shook his head as Allistor held his nose. He was rather surprised when Allistor actually lowered his defenses, like he was ashamed, but it was not enough to get Francis to apologize, to take his hand, or to offer the man a place at his side.

Instead, Francis picked up his reins and gently snapped them. “Go home to Bannockburn and forget about what we had. There are more important things to worry about.”

Allistor chuckled softly, and the sound cut through Francis like a knife. The stupid bastard shouldn’t be laughing. “Maybe not always.”

Francis pretended not to hear him as he galloped down the merchant’s road. In a matter of moments, thoughts of war, Norge, and the Fae had completely consumed him, along with General Beilschmidt. Ayiana always acted odd whenever he was brought up, yet when Alexander wasn’t around and when the collar was off, she and the general seemed rather close. On more than one occasion, Francis passed the two in one of the large luxurious rooms the queen was to hold court in, but they were the only two inside. Sometimes Ayiana even asked the general to walk with her through the streets of Camelot, instead of getting the aid of her personal guard. The relationship they had did not seem to be carnal; in fact, he sometimes caught Ayiana staring at the general with a look that Francis saw in the eyes of his own mother, Marianne.

Ayiana was also strangely protective of the general. Francis had seen her glare at Alexander’s back when he spoke to the general, or when he laid a hand on him. It was the same look she gave him when he spoke or touched her son, the prince of Avalon, Alfred. That same hidden glare, filled with the simmering rage only a mother could ever possess. To Francis, it was an odd attachment his queen had with the general, but he doubted Ayiana would tell him her reasons anytime soon, and for now they truly did not matter. He needed to focus on reporting everything to Catalina.

He just hoped this mission would not be in vain.

.

_The Orlon Forest; three days later_

“I don’t understand,” Matthew said for the umpteenth time. His finger traveled along the smooth black page of the _Fabula_, beneath the golden sentences that mocked him so, and his lips pursed with every unanswered question in his arsenal. “This book is supposed to have the location of the Once and Future King. There should be hundreds of more pages! So why is there so little…?”

From his side, Gilbert groaned. “You know, asking those questions won’t get you any sort of answers.” In his lap was a bound notebook Feliciano lent him, with most of the yellow pages filled with detailed pictures of herbs and trees as a sort of documentation. There were still a few blank pages, which Gilbert was using to jot down some things Matthew was saying from the _Fabula_ readings. The quill had not dipped into the ink for some time now. “You’re just complaining.”

“What else do you want me to say?” Matthew snapped in reply. “Do would want me interpret something hidden between the lines? Or how about I decipher a riddle for you?” He glared fiercely at Gilbert with so much frustration in his chest it made him want to cry. “Is that what you want from me, since _I’m_ Merlin and _I’m_ supposed to be good at this?!”

Instead of the alpha growling, like Matthew expected him to, Gilbert raised an eyebrow and stared at him. He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring with this unimpressed look in his red eyes. Matthew met it with his glare, but the longer they stared at each other, the quicker his anger started to disappear. He was taking everything out on Gilbert, who didn’t have to help him. He could, and probably should, be with Feliciano and Elias, not sitting outside in the cold evening attempting to translate the meanings of old myths and prophecies. But he had insisted he wanted to help, and here he was.

Matthew’s shoulders slumped as his glare melted away completely. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m just so… I’m so…”

“Upset?” Gilbert offered. “Frustrated? So pissed off you wanna hurl the damn book off a mountaintop? Yeah, no kidding. I am too.”

Here was another thing Matthew was not expecting. “You are?”

Gilbert rolled his eyes as he closed the little notebook. He placed it on the ground and set the quill and ink on top of it. “When the hell are you going to realize I’m on board with this quest? This book was supposed to help us out, that’s what your vision said, but it isn’t, and that’s shitty.” Gilbert tilted his head back, and Matthew could not help but stare at him as he looked at the cloudy sky. His jaw was littered with white stubble, his cheeks held a rosy tint from the nipping cold, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. He needed to rest, they both did, but Gilbert was grinning now, like he always did in that snarky, “I’m better than thou” way of his, as if he were challenging the gods themselves. Even now, in these unfortunate circumstances, he grinned. “But I don’t think that’s a reason to give up just yet.”

Matthew looked back at the book still open in his lap, letting his eyes wander across the golden text. _In garbs of green, he comes. Armor tightened with the garland as prickly as thorns, and holly as poisonous as yew dripping from viridescent skin. Await, a price to pay for questions not so easily answered, the Green Knight speaks. Tall as he is, Sir Gawain struck true and bold, only to be delivered the same swing thrice times over. Follow through the forest of oak and ash, with starlight as your guide and Sir Gawain at your side, and speak to the Green Knight of the riddles and answers you seek._

An interesting passage, one that confirmed the legend of the Green Knight, but it had absolutely nothing to do with anything. What did it matter? Why did _any_ of this matter right now? He removed his large glasses in order to rub his eyes. It felt like they’d been analyzing the book for hours when in reality it had only been a mere two. After Matthew’s observation of the nonexistent whereabouts of King Arthur, the council members dispersed and Catalina announced to the village that he and Gilbert were to be treated as guests, not as intruders. The statement was met with mixed reactions, with some sending them actual smiles and others, like Enzo, outright growling. Currently, Matthew and Gilbert were sitting outside Feliciano’s cottage, attempting to take notes on the passages given. It was proving to be ineffective. Every passage included little pieces of the characters’ lives, including the adventures they went on, their relationships, and the trials they had to accept, but that was it. It did not matter that Guinevere would become known as the “dragon of Avalon”, or Lancelot the “breaker of chains” because their locations and real names were unknown. Everything led them from one dead end to the next, and it was quickly draining Matthew of everything.

Despite this, Gilbert’s little words of encouragement actually made a smile grace his lips. “How are you the optimistic one here?”

Gilbert dug a finger into the dirt and swished it around. Matthew had the feeling Gilbert was trying not to look at him. “I’m in a good mood. Today may be a bust for you, but for me, this is just, I mean, look.” He shook his head with a smile on his face. “I found someone I thought I lost, and I gained something I never even knew I had. How can I not be optimistic?”

Across from them, Feliciano was working with Lovino on something that looked to be a wreath. Matthew could not see it clearly from here, but he knew it was a decoration for Yule. Greenery was a Yulemas tradition. A few paces from where the brothers worked, Antonio and Elias were brushing the three horses tied to a post. Matthew had not even noticed them earlier, but now that things were much more relaxed, he could fully gaze at the magnificent animals. Long ago, during one of his many lessons on the Fae, he had read that Fae bred horses in Raetia to make them faster and stronger than regular horses so they could match the speed of Fae. These, however, looked to be regular thoroughbreds, not the sleeker, slender equestrians Fae used. Matthew’s little smile grew when one of the horses rubbed its cheek against Elias’s shoulder affectionately while at the same time it smacked Antonio in the face with its tail.

“You’re right.” With a tiny sigh, Matthew closed the _Fabula_ and pressed it against his chest. It did not matter how protective he was of it, no one but seers could open the book. “I’m glad you found them, Gil. Really, it’s almost like a miracle.”

Now Gilbert looked up, and stared right into Matthew’s eyes. One month ago, nothing shined in those eyes. There was still an emptiness to them, a soulless depth that might never be filled, but there was warmth, too. There was a spark, and Matthew was surprised by the intense feelings of happiness in his chest as he took in the positivity. Yes, Matthew was relieved Gilbert found someone to give him that spark.

“It’s thanks to you that I even found Feli and Elias.” When Gilbert spoke, his voice was low and rough. Matthew’s eyes widened from the tone and the words. He was about to shake his head like he did when Gilbert silently thanked him earlier, but he was not given the chance. “Do not try and shake it off like you didn’t have anything to do with it, cause you did. If you hadn’t found me, if you hadn’t dragged me out of that shack, I would still be there. I, I can’t… Sheesh.” Gilbert looked away to run a hand through his hair, and Matthew felt like he could breathe again.

“I can’t thank you enough,” the alpha mumbled. “Don’t get used to my gratitude.”

Could it be a trick of the setting sun, or was Gilbert blushing? Here was this alpha who swaggered around like he was the biggest, baddest thing around, and now he was blushing like a little boy. Matthew knew if he laughed, Gilbert would immediately be on guard, so he swallowed the giddiness inside of him from the cute scene before his eyes, and smiled softly instead. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. Those Shadow Soldiers forced you to leave.”

“Hmph.” Gilbert crossed his arms. “I was just about to leave to come find you and bring you back.”

Ignoring the feelings of guilt at the memory, Matthew rolled his eyes and tucked his right leg in, leaving his crippled leg stretched out. “Just accept my thanks, will ya?” Gilbert said quickly. “Cause this is a once in a lifetime thing.”

Matthew snorted. “If it will make you happy, then you’re welcome. Even though I did nothing.”

“Gods damnit, you’re as difficult as a vixen.”

“You’re so sweet.”

Matthew and Gilbert shared a wry smile. They were filthy, exhausted, and frustrated, but they were still smiling as the fading sun turned the sky pink and purple. And for some reason, as Matthew took in Gilbert’s appearance again, he felt his heart give an extra little thump. It confused him. Why did his stomach suddenly feel so warm? Weird. Before he could dwell on it for too long, the sound of someone walking toward them allowed Matthew to break eye contact and concentrate on something rather than the feelings inside him. He smiled politely as Feliciano stopped in front of them.

“Sorry! I hope I’m not interrupting anything!” he exclaimed with a tilt of his head.

Gilbert waved his hand. “Nah. We’re done with that book for now.”

For some strange reason, Feliciano said, “That isn’t really what I meant.” His eyes softened when they landed on the book still pressed against Matthew’s chest. “But are you saying you haven’t made any progress?”

Both Matthew and Gilbert shook their heads. Feliciano frowned. “That’s terrible! Is there anything I can do to help? We’re just about done with everything, so, if you need me I can try my best!”

Feliciano was one of the sweetest beings Matthew had ever met, even though that list was quite tiny. He could not fathom how one who lost so much could smile so readily. He wondered if he were ever given the chance to love someone as strongly as Feliciano loved Ludwig, only to have them snatched away, if he would be able to stay as cheerful. It was an unnecessary thought, considering the probability of him ever romantically loving someone was less than zero.

He smiled at the Fae. “I appreciate it, Feli, but for now we’re okay.”

Feliciano’s smile turned a bit uneasy as he wrapped a hand around his wrist and fiddled with the black ribbon. “I, I’m a bit uncertain as to what it is I should be doing. I mean, what is Elain supposed to do?”

Now it was Matthew’s turn to look uncertain. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. There is no Faerie named Elain in the Arthurian legends, so I don’t know where you fit into all of this, at least when it comes to the Once and Future King.”

“That’s right.” Feliciano looked down and gave a strained chuckle. “I’m the Wayward Faerie, too.”

After Catalina made her announcement, she privately drew Feliciano and Lovino to the side to share her theory of the Wayward Faerie. Matthew was happy to have her do it, for he knew not much of the last words Raetia’s first queen had given. He did see the horrified look on Feliciano after Catalina dismissed him, along with the terror on Lovino’s face. To go on a journey to look for a queen said to be long dead, it was just as impossible as Matthew’s own quest. He had wanted to comfort Feliciano, but felt like he would be intruding if he did so. Meeting new people was still foreign to him, in some ways. Besides, Lovino looked ready to bite off the heads of anyone who walked near them.

“Fucking badass, might I add,” Gilbert said, unhelpfully, with a point in Feliciano’s direction. Matthew had quickly explained everything he could about the Wayward Faerie to Gilbert earlier, too. “You’re gonna find this lost queen? That’s awesome.”

Matthew elbowed Gilbert. Try as he may, Gilbert could never fully understand the pressure put on someone tasked with such a grand task. No one but Matthew and Feliciano could. Ignoring the pout Gilbert wore, Matthew planted his staff in the ground and used it to lift himself up. He smiled softly at Feliciano. “We still haven’t been able to talk, but we can now, if you think it would put your mind to ease.”

Feliciano shook his head. “Oh, no. I would prefer to wait until after Yule, if that’s okay.” He turned his head to the side, where Lovino joined Antonio and Elias. Antonio was crouched close to the ground as he brushed one of the horse’s front legs, giving the horse perfect access to pull at his curly brown hair with its large teeth. Lovino and Elias burst out laughing as Antonio started struggling. “Just one more day of normalcy is all I ask.”

Matthew could not blame him. Feliciano would have to join them on this quest, meaning he had to leave his son behind. The boy nearly tripped over his feet as he tried to run behind Lovino when Antonio freed himself and went after Elias. The little trip gave Antonio just enough time to snatch Elias into his arms and spin him around as they laughed. There was a sort of tranquility surrounding the three, as Antonio wrapped an arm around Lovino with Elias squirming in his other one.

“They’re good with kids,” Gilbert said as he stood up. “I’m surprised they don’t have any.”

Feliciano smiled grimly. “Yes, me too.” It sounded like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t continue the sentence. He looked back at Matthew and Gilbert with a happier smile. “Now, I didn’t come over here to talk about me! I was going to offer the two of you a bath. It looks like you haven’t had a proper bath in some time, and I have plenty of soaps, though they don’t smell like anything. There’s a lake we use to bathe in not far from here, and I thought it would be useful to the two of you.”

“A bath sounds wonderful.” During their journey, they stopped in little lakes to clean themselves off, but they never immersed themselves completely. They hadn’t passed through any towns, either. They probably didn’t smell that great, something Matthew had not even thought about.

“In this weather?” Gilbert shook his head. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, no!” Feliciano pointed to Antonio. “You see, Catalina and Antonio are Sun Fae, that’s why they’re dressed so lightly. They’re always warm! Their magic is faint, but they still have the power to warm the lake, and that’s what they do! Every morning, they go to the lake and boil the water to get it clean again. It comes in handy!”

Matthew was fascinated. “That’s how you’re able to maintain clean water out here. Wow, I did wonder.”

“Mmhm! Oh, I can borrow some clothes from Antonio too, so you guys have something nice and cozy to sleep in. And don’t worry about where you’re sleeping, there are extra beds in the infirmary connected to my cottage you can use. Those are also clean.”

Gilbert groaned again, though this sounded like one of pure ecstasy. “Feli, you were sent by the gods themselves.”

Feliciano’s laughter was like chiming bells. He started walking toward the entrance to the cottage. “I’ll grab you some soap, and then I’ll take you to the lake. You guys can have your alone time there, too! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes, and shared a quizzical glance with Gilbert. Alone time? What was Feliciano talking about? “Oh, um,” he started, feeling a bit awkward for some reason. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t think we’ll be too long.”

“Don’t be silly!” Feliciano called as he opened the door. Since he was disappearing into the house, he shouted his next words, to Matthew’s utter mortification. “Mates need their alone time, and you guys _are_ mates. Do what you guys need to do, I get it!”

The sharp inhale Gilbert gave beside him quickly turned into a fit of harsh coughing. Matthew was too afraid to touch him, so he just stood there, with wide eyes on the door Feliciano disappeared behind, as his friend choked beside him. Gilbert recovered long enough to croak out, “Mates?”

When Feliciano walked back outside, Gilbert and Matthew began talking over each other as quickly as they could to try and get the omega to understand how wrong he was. “Gilbert snores in his sleep!”, “Matthew smells like maples and that’s too sweet for me!”, and things of that nature kept flying from their mouths. It took ten whole minutes for Feliciano to believe they were not mates.

..

The lake they were to bathe in was tucked away in the thicker part of the forest, surrounded by a mossy bank. Just as Feliciano said, the water was hot. As Matthew slid into it, the stress inside of him began to slowly fade, if only for this short time he was resting. Gilbert had jumped into the water without any sort of embarrassment, and created a big enough splash to hit Matthew in the face. They stayed close enough to keep some conversation going, but far enough away to not feel awkward from Feliciano’s earlier inquiries. Mathew took his time washing his body with the bar of soap Feliciano gave him as he relished in the feeling of cleanliness again. Gilbert had taken to shaving his scraggly face with a small dagger. When he was finished, he submerged, and when he came back up, his face looked fresh and smooth.

Matthew could have stayed inside the lake for the entire night, but his stomach was begging for food, and the first stars were staring to shine overhead, meaning it was probably time to leave. After they dragged themselves off and started dressing in the clothes Feliciano had provided them with, Gilbert froze and sniffed the air. Matthew immediately stilled. He did not ask, he needed to stay silent, though he did follow Gilbert’s gaze to a small rise in the land a couple lengths away from them.

A long-legged gray dog was sitting on top of the rise. One of its ears looked to be pierced, allowing for a strand of holly to dangle from it. It was eerily still as it blinked at them with eyes that glowed green. Matthew rubbed his own at the sight. Dogs did not have green eyes. The dog slowly stood up, and walked away, down the small rise. In its place, little stubs of greenery had pushed through the earth.

“What was that?” he breathed softly.

Gilbert didn’t take his gaze away from the green stubs. His nostril flared ever so slightly as he sniffed the air, but his shoulders were not tensed. It could not be a dangerous scent. Finally, he said, “I have no fucking clue. It smelled like pine and holly, and absolutely nothing like a dog.” He shared a look with Matthew. “Maybe it’s some Fae thing?”

“Maybe.” Matthew was not entirely certain. A chilly breeze rolled through, and he hoped his shiver was caused from his lack of warm clothing. “We need to start heading back.”

“Yeah.” Gilbert shivered, too. He frowned as he leaned down to pick up the clothes they had previously been wearing. “Damn Faerie forests. They always give me the creeps.”

The two started back to the camp, keeping relatively close just in case. There was such a stillness in the forest now, not even the wind stirred. “Apparently,” Matthew said in order to keep some noise between them. “The Black Forest in Raetia was filled with a ton of hidden legends and monsters brought by the Faeries. Have, uh, you ever been there?”

“My brother was born in the Black Forest,” was the muttered response. “I don’t remember anything about the place though. Wait.” Matthew watched Gilbert’s face pale in the darkness. “My father always said to be wary of the Black Forest, and to never stare into it for too long because it might stare back.”

Another shiver went down Matthew’s spine. “What happens if it stares back?”

“You get trapped in the forest, and become a part of it forever.”

A branch snapped somewhere not so far from them, and they both jumped. Matthew and Gilbert took no time in quickening their steps back to the camp without a glance behind them. If they had looked, they would have seen green eyes peering through the oaks and ashes, belonging to a man clad in armor, sitting atop a green horse. At his back was an axe draped in ivy, with the runes of the Old Language decorating the blade. He lifted his chin at the retreating figures marching through his forest.

_“So Gawain has come.”_

.

That night, with bellies warm from rabbit soup, the Fae of the Orlon Forest slept in their individual huts as the god of the moon watched unperturbed from above. Unbeknownst to everyone else, three were blessed with dreams.

Elain was surrounded by darkness, the kind that had no beginning and no end. Pitch black, inky, and cold. Not even his superior Fae sight allowed him much help, though his ears picked up a rattle-like noise. He tried his best to follow the sound. The noise became louder the more he moved. _Clang clang clang_. The noise of chains. Elain stopped when the noise did. There was someone in front of him now, a man with black hair and eyes of ice. Something in his heart ached at the sight of this man; loneliness, love, loss. He reached up to touch the man’s cheek, but as soon as his hand touched skin, another hand slithered from the darkness at the man’s back and gripped his wrist. The man disappeared into mist. All that was left was a grotesque daemon with eyes just as blue as the man’s, who grinned a mouthful of jagged teeth and dragged Elain closer.

Gawain walked through a forest with milky sunlight as his only guide. In his hand was an axe with runes, weightless and true. His footsteps were silent as they hit the dead leaves that littered the forest floor, but his breath was loud and ragged. There, in front of him, it stood. He stopped in front of a man in green armor, with a face concealed by a spiked green helmet. This is what Gawain was to do. He lifted the axe and swung it through the air, and it sliced the helmeted head right off the armored body. As the head fell to the ground, the helmet slipped off, revealing the white hair and red eyes of Gawain himself, with holly spiders crawling from his nose and garland snakes slithering him his mouth.

Merlin was standing in the mountains. The sky above him was covered by a smoky cloud that blocked out the rest of the world. The wind blew something fierce, and he gripped his wooden staff in fear of being knocked over. When the wind ceased, he noticed a huge, black cave in front of him. The smog was coming from it. There was a creature inside. There were footsteps behind him, and when Merlin turned around, he saw _him_. The male Faerie, the one from his vision nine years ago, the one whose voice spoke to him just this morning: _I will keep you safe_. Here he was, in his silver armor and a red cape, with curly brown hair ruffled by the wind. His golden eyes were narrowed as they looked past him. Merlin wanted to speak to him, to demand who this Faerie was, why he had been the one to give him the prophecy so long ago and to never return, but when he opened his mouth, his tongue was gone.

“Beware the mountains,” the Faerie said. “The dragon slumbers.”

The cave exploded, and Merlin whirled around, just in time to see a huge dragon erupt from the cavern. Its underbelly was the color of sand, its back was the color of a starless night, and its spikes and scales glowed as it opened its mouth and hurled burning fire right into Merlin and the Faerie. And when it hit, so did the screams of the dying from Esmya, victims of Avalon and King Alexander, and Merlin’s failure.

Merlin, Gawain, and Elain did not sleep well the night before Yule.

.

The early morning sunlight was a beautiful sight to Matthew as he stepped out of the infirmary. When he awoke, there had been fresh clothes waiting at the foot of his bed, consisting of brown pants, a creamy shirt with strings connecting the neck together, and brown suspenders. The suspenders must have been expensive since leather was so hard to come by, unless one lived in the big cities. The pants hugged him a bit uncomfortably, especially since he tucked in his shirt, but overall they fit relatively well. They were laden with alpha scent, so Feliciano must have borrowed them from someone else. After he grabbed his gray cloak and staff, he left the already empty infirmary.

Catalina was waiting outside the door in a dark green dress and a crown made of garland. Matthew dipped his head in greeting. “You look lovely this morning.”

“I thank you, sweet boy.” She lifted another crown of garland, this one with holly berries scattered around it. “Here. This is for the celebration.”

Matthew lowered his head to give the shorter Fae access to it. He thanked her with his smile. His coven celebrated Yule, they celebrated every holiday on Esmya, but it seemed the Fae around him were doing it with much more vigor. The entire camp smelt of fir, and everyone mingling around were wearing clothes of dark green, red, and white. Compared to the shabby clothes they wore yesterday, these were shiny and new. For special occasions only, clearly.

“What a beautiful day for Yule,” Catalina said softly. “I was worried the sun would be hidden behind the clouds like yesterday, but it seems she is just as ready for the celebration as we.”

“Yes, it seems that way.” Matthew looked to the pale blue sky, where the sun barely peaked over the tops of the trees to shine down upon the camp. He was reminded of his strange dream, with the black dragon and male Faerie. He shivered as he recalled the screams. Then it dawned upon him that Catalina may, in fact, know who that Faerie was. “May I ask a weird question?” Catalina waved him on. “Have you... well, has there ever been a memorable Fae who wore a red cape?”

Catalina’s eyes widened slightly. Matthew held back a smile of triumph; she knew who he was talking about! Unfortunately, his assumption did not prove to be correct. “I’m afraid you will have to be a bit more specific. The red cape was worn by the Legatus of Raetia’s army. They were the commanders of legions, and the red cape was a sign of that. I wore one myself during my time as Legatus.”

That’s right. Gilbert had been freaking out over Catalina’s past glories just yesterday. He sighed softly. “Oh, I see.” Another question left unanswered. He should start writing them all down at this rate.

Catalina pressed her hand to Matthew’s arm. “I will not ask what sparked the question, but I will say today is not the day to be worrying about the things out of our control. It is Yule, a time to remember the darkness will not last forever. Celebrate with us, Matthew. You and Gilbert both. It is the most wonderful of holidays.”

Touched by her offer, Matthew let out a long breath. He would not fool himself, the possibility of letting go of his worries- the _Fabula_, the whereabouts of the Once and Future King, this past dream, the vision he had yesterday of the man and the daemon- was slim to none. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t attempt to enjoy today. He might be a seer, but he was also a witch. These holidays were meant to be celebrated by him. He nodded and smiled. “I would be honored, thank you.”

Catalina led him to the center of camp, where most Fae were mingling. The three horses were strapped to small wagons filled with different items; one was dedicated to food, another for small wooden tables, and the last with very young children. Riding atop two of the horses were two pregnant Fae, one male and one female. Larger Fae, most likely their mates, held the reins of rope in their hands.

“We do not celebrate in the camp,” Catalina explained. “There is a spot not far from here where we gather.”

Matthew was suddenly very grateful for the salve he was given yesterday. The walk would not be as painful with it rubbed into his knee.

Gilbert suddenly appeared from nowhere, dressed in fresh clothes that consisted of black pants and a white shirt with his regular jacket. Around his shoulders, a long strand of garland lay, tied together at his chest beneath his iron cross. Even though there were dark circles under his eyes, he grinned. “Good morning, sleeping beauty!” He swept down into a bow. “Blessed am I to see you this humble day.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Ah, glad you asked.” Gilbert straightened. His grin was absolutely wolfish. “While you were snoring away, I was helping Feli and everyone else with the preparations for today! You’re the last one in the entire camp to wake.”

Matthew’s face reddened with shame. “Oh. Oh, why didn’t you wake me? I didn’t mean to sleep so late.” He turned his eyes to Catalina, finding it rather difficult to meet her gaze. “I, I’m sorry about that. Truly, I wasn’t trying to be-”

Her chuckle cut him off. “Do not fret. You are our guests, there is no work required for the two of you. Now come along.” She started walking away from them. “It is time we departed.”

When Catalina turned her back, Matthew sent a withering glare Gilbert’s way. “Do you have to be so ridiculous _all_ time?”

Gilbert grinned. “You know it, baby.”

Matthew caught the look of exhaustion in Gilbert’s eyes. His face seemed paler than usual, too, and it made those black circles look even worse. It seemed neither slept well last night. Matthew didn’t get the chance to ask, for Feliciano bounced over with Elias in tow. In Elias’s hands was a basket filled with fir sticks, bound by thick strings. Feliciano held a wooden plate, the top black with soot.

“Good morning, Matthew!” Feliciano said happily. His outfit was adorable. He still wore a red tunic, with a lighter red long sleeved undershirt beneath it, but his brown tights had been exchanged for dark green ones. In his hair were sprigs of mistletoe and pansies. With his little pointed shoes, Feliciano looked like one of the Fae drawn in a child’s story book, dressed in bright colors and draped in greenery. “I hope you slept well! I had the strangest dream, do you know? I can tell you about it later, because right now I want you and Gil to take these smudge sticks! We made them yesterday, see? You light them against this wooden plate, and they last until we make it until our destination. And then, we light more of them the night of and let them guide us home!”

It took a moment for Feliciano’s rapid fire words to settle in Matthew’s head, but Gilbert seemed to have no problem comprehending. He eagerly grabbed a smudge stick from Elias’s basket. “I’m sure we made the best.” He struck it against the plate in Feliciano’s hand, and the top burst into flames. Immediately, the smell of pine wafted into the air. “That smells good!”

“See?” Feliciano smiled knowingly at Gilbert. “They aren’t just for nothing.”

“Yeah, well I still think that’s a lot of work just to burn them.”

Matthew reached into the basket and picked up his own stick. “Thank you,” he said to Elias. Like Gilbert had done, he struck the stick against the plate and watched the top erupt. The Yule-time scents wrapped around him, mixing with the heavy scent of his garland crown. It was a nostalgic scent, bringing him back to the times of his coven, where he helped them decorate a beautiful tree with ribbons, strings, and little trinkets they made. Considering the decorating of trees was a tradition relative to Norge, there probably would be nothing here of the sort.

Feliciano grabbed his own stick and lit it against the plate. The last one in the basket was eagerly grabbed by Elias, but Feliciano raised the plate from the boy’s grasp. “Wait! When you light it, keep it-”

“Out in front of me, I know, I know!” Elias stood on his tiptoes. “I promise I’ll do it.”

Feliciano lowered the plate, and Elias struck the stick against it. The fire burned within his eyes, showing the excitement bursting in them. Feliciano batted the top of his head before taking the empty basket. Turning to Matthew and Gilbert, he said, “I’m going to refill this with the sticks we’re going to use later tonight, and then I’ll be ready. We can all walk together!”

Matthew smiled as Feliciano walked away. He was glad the Fae was in a chipper mood today, though the spots beneath his eyes were bruised just like his and Gilbert’s. His smile started to vanish. Could it be possible they were all kept awake by bad dreams? Maybe he should ask later.

“Here, Elias.” Matthew watched Gilbert hand Elias his own stick. “You can hold on to mine.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Elias stared at Gilbert uncertainly, then looked at the two sticks in his hand. Whatever doubts he had seemed to have melted away with his grin. “Cool!”

Before Matthew could ask, Feliciano was back. He didn’t ask about the extra stick, though he did sigh softly and shake his head. At the front of the group, Catalina raised her voice. “My fellow Fae! Yule is upon us, the day we honor the birth of the Oak Prince, the second child born of the first Flora Queen and Holly King. Samhein is the day we honor the first child’s birth, the day of death and passing, but this day of Yule is a time of new beginnings, of finding ways out of the darkness, and of new hope! We shall burn our fires to ward away the cold and welcome the sun, as well as our Oak Prince on the shortest day of the year. Come now, as our journey begins!”

The Fae cheered and hollered in reply. Catalina turned around and started walking out of the camp, and the others filed after her in a single filed line, with a few moving beside each other. The alphas holding the reins to the horses walked at the side of the line. Matthew, Gilbert, Feliciano, and Elias stayed toward the back, which Matthew was thankful for. His knee would cause him to move slowly.

Since Elias was keeping Feliciano occupied with whatever it was he was saying, Matthew nudged Gilbert. “Hey, why did you give Elias your stick? You seemed pretty excited about it when you got it.”

“Oh.” Gilbert stuffed his hands into his pockets, and smiled a bit. He looked uncomfortable. “Fire isn’t my favorite thing in the world. I’m fine with the little fires we make when we set up camp, but I don’t like it right by my face. Makes me feel weird.”

It didn’t make much sense to Matthew until he remembered looking into Gilbert’s past and seeing that hellish night nine years ago. There had been a fire on the night his brother was killed. “Ohh.” Knowing Gilbert would not want to stay on such a vulnerable topic, he decided to ask, “How do shapeshifters celebrate Yule?”

Gilbert did not show any signs of thanks for the change of conversation, but Matthew did not need it. He was getting good at understanding Gilbert’s silence. “Shapeshifters get a lot of their traditions from Norge, don’t ask me why. Instead of celebrating the birth of some prince, like the Fae, we just celebrate the solstice and the sun. We decorate trees, cause the Norgians believe their gods live in trees. I won’t lie, I was mostly in it for the beer and roasted pork.”

Matthew laughed, and Gilbert shot him a wry smile. All was well. Their walk consisted of pleasant conversation with each other and Feliciano as the Fae in front of them sang tunes dedicated to their goddess and god. Their walk took about an hour, their destination a clearing in the forest. There was already a huge fire pit in the center, ready to be lit. The Fae took no time encircling the pit and tossing their burning smudge sticks into it, after they murmured something above the flame of their sticks.

“A wish,” Feliciano explained. “Something you want out of the coming new year.”

Matthew blinked at his own stick. Something he wanted? He closed his eyes. He knew exactly what he wanted. _‘Please’_, he thought. _‘Let me find the Once and Future King. Let us save Esmya.’_ And then another thought crept into his mind. _‘And let Gil find peace and happiness.’_

He opened his eyes and tossed the stick into pit, where a fire was beginning to burn. Elias handed Gilbert his stick with a little blush on his face. “Here. Two wishes makes someone selfish.”

“Oh.” The genuine surprise on Gilbert’s face was sweet. It made him look young. He grinned, and the innocence went away. “Thanks, kid.”

With the amount of burning sticks in the pit, the fire was quickly climbing higher. With their hands free, it was time to get everything else set up. Alphas took to unloading the wagon of tables, and omegas lifted plates of already prepared food, that seemed to consist of soup and bread. It smelled heavenly. Once everything was prepared, Catalina raised her arms.

“Let this Yule commence!”

Several Fae stood off to the side and unstrapped instruments from their backs: A fiddle, a lute, an ocarina, and two panpipes. Immediately, they began to play. Matthew was mesmerized by the music. Never before had he heard Fae play, but he had heard their music was legendary. A group of alphas and omegas began to dance. Each alpha had holly in their hair, and the omegas had flowers in theirs. Antonio and Lovino were among them, dancing in time with the others. Their feet moved in sync, as did their hands, as they spun each other around and around. The rest of the Fae encircling the group clapped their hands in time with the music. The dancers moved faster and faster, around and around the fire they went. They never changed partners, they never looked away from each other, it was like everyone was meant only to be with the one they were dancing with.

“What are they doing?” Matthew asked Feliciano.

“This is called the Dance of Flora and Holly. Each is a mated pair,” Feliciano explained. “To the Fae, Yule is the celebration of the consummation between Queen Mab and King Oberon that brought their second child, the Oak Prince, into the world because he was the one who succeeded his parents and became the next ruler of Raetia.” He pointed to the dancers. “That’s why every alpha there has holly in their hair, and why every omega has flowers in theirs, to honor the Flora Queen and Holly King. Once this song is finished, everyone is invited to dance, but this dance is seen as an opening of Yule.”

Matthew blinked, wide-eyed. “How extraordinary.”

Antonio lifted Lovino by the hips and spun him around, and from the small shriek that left the omega, it was quite obvious that was not a part of the dance. But they both smiled at each other when he was lowered, and pressed their foreheads together as they finished the dance. It was mesmerizing. The dance finished with a final note from the fiddle, and the dancers immediately stopped with the alpha dipping their omegas toward the ground. Matthew happily clapped with the rest of the Fae. It had been a beautiful performance.

The rest of Yule passed nicely, too. They said their prayers to their gods, and Catalina said the final words of Queen Mab. Matthew noticed the way Feliciano closed his eyes and shuddered when she spoke of the Wayward Faerie. If Matthew had been braver, he would have put a hand on Feliciano’s shoulder. After that, everyone ate spiced bread, an apparent delicacy in their current condition. Because of that reasoning, Matthew and Gilbert tore off little bits of their bread and gave the rest to Elias, who looked like he had received treasure chests of gold instead.

After their snack, the music started again. Manon twirled over and invited Elias to dance with her, as Feliciano happily linked his arm with Lovino and pulled him into the crowd. Antonio and Gilbert spoke for a long time, chatting and laughing like old friends, their conversations filled with the different kinds of bows, and other assortments of weaponry. Matthew did not mind keeping close to himself, he preferred to stay silent anyway. Besides, everything here was so fascinating to him. He could only imagine what celebrations in Raetia must have been like before its fall. A few other Fae crept closer to him as the day continued, and cautiously asked him questions of his own witch culture. Some children even asked to hold his staff, until they were ushered away by their mothers.

Feliciano stayed with Matthew for the majority of the celebration. They sat together on the edge of the clearing and spoke of many things, from different herbal remedies they used, to the spells Matthew concocted, and of the Old Language. Feliciano had been delighted to speak with a witch in his native tongue, and Matthew was happy to oblige. By the time the sun had slipped behind the trees, Elias even walked over and asked Matthew if he would like to see his animal form. The form Elias took was a black dire wolf. Matthew almost didn’t believe Feliciano when he saw he was the size of a pup; Elias was at least as big as a medium sized dog.

Even so, Matthew had never seen a shapeshifter before. The way Elias moved made him look exactly like an actual wolf, not just something in between. When Elias shifted back, he grinned happily, though a bit uncertainly, at Matthew with widened blue eyes.

“Wasn’t that cool? It still kind of takes me a while to shift, but it was still awesome!” He paused. “Do you think so?”

Without hesitating, Matthew nodded. “It was very awesome. I’ve never met a full blooded shapeshifter before.”

Elias tilted his head to the side as he sat on the ground in front of Matthew. “Me neither. But, you know, I’ve never met a witch before. Or a prophet.” He gasped. “Hey, can you see my future? With those card things?”

Feliciano made small noise, and Elias turned his widened eyes to his mother. “What? Isn’t that what prophets do?”

“That doesn’t make it okay to ask a question like that,” Feliciano pointed out.

Matthew shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He smiled softly at Elias, wondering how to explain something so grand to a child. “A prophet has many abilities, but a lot is out of their control. Unless magic is involved, I can’t look into someone’s past or future. It’s very draining, and requires my blood. That’s why I must reserve it for the utmost important of things.”

“So there’s a lot of rules?” Elias asked, as to which Matthew nodded. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “There’s always a lot of rules.”

“There must always be rules when it comes to magic.” Matthew’s voice hardened as he blinked at the sky, Elias following his gaze. “That’s why dark magic and all of its books were outlawed centuries ago. There were only prices to pay for using that magic, no rules or laws to follow. That’s what made it so dangerous.” And somehow the former King Uther got his hands on it, and passed it down to his son Alexander.

“Hm.” Matthew looked back down as Elias spoke. The little boy’s eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration. “Magic sounds complicated.”

“It can be,” Matthew agreed. “I have grown up with it, and even so I am constantly puzzled by it.”

“Was your mom a witch?” Elias asked, leaning forward. “Or is she as different from you as my mom is to me?”

Feliciano chuckled softly as Matthew fumbled with an answer. His foster mother Adhan, the witch, or his birth mother Victoria, the queen of Avalon, the one with rumored prophetic ability. “I suppose,” he murmured. “I am mostly like my mother.”

A witch and a seer.

Elias’s expression twisted. Angry was not the best way to describe his twisted lips and down-casted eyes. Perhaps confused and frustration were better adjectives for the boy. “I got everything from my father, even though…” He trailed off when his eyes drifted to Feliciano. Matthew did not want to see whatever hurt expression Feliciano was most likely wearing. “What’s your dad like, Matthew?”

He should have expected this question. He looked past Elias, where many Fae were still dancing around the fire. The music was fast and wonderful as it twirled around the air, and swam through Matthew’s ears. The warm atmosphere did nothing to repress the chill that wormed its way across Matthew’s skin. His father, the one who caused such misfortune to fall upon these very Fae. Alexander Jones Pendragon, a human who’s lifespan has been prolonged by the workings of dark magic, the one who has spilt countless gallons of blood, and the one who Matthew would need to stand against one day.

“My father is not a good man,” Matthew finally murmured. “I never met him, but I heard of the many cruel things he did. They used to terrify me as a child, because I thought I would grow up to be just like him. But then I realized I am my own person, I do not need to be like him unless I will it.” He smiled softly. “Perhaps if I had a good and chivalrous father, I would have tried to be like him.”

Slowly, Elias blinked at Matthew. Matthew cautiously smiled at the boy, awaiting to see how he would respond. He was not trying to pry, it was none of his business after all, but they were alike in some aspects. Elias grew up without a father, as did Matthew, but there was a grand difference between the two. One’s father was of chivalry and grace, the other was one of bloodlust and destruction. In this way, they were also vastly different.

Unfortunately, Matthew did not get to hear Elias’s reply, because there was a man standing in the fire. Startled, Matthew slowly lifted his head as he watched the man. Black hair, blue eyes, and a uniform of black. He has seen this man before, just yesterday in a vision of black and shadow and darkness, with a daemon coming from his very skin and screaming at the sky. It was the same man. He barely felt the hand Feliciano placed against his back.

“Matthew?” Feliciano’s voice was soft. “Is everything okay?”

Matthew did not reply, he just kept his gaze on the man in the fire. He looked so weary and tired, as he stared at Matthew- no. No, he was not staring at Matthew. He was staring at Elias and Feliciano. Matthew reached for his staff, and slowly clambered to his feet with his knee aching in protest from the long hours spent on the ground. Why was a man looking at Feliciano and Elias with such pain in his haunted gaze?

The wind blew, and the surrounding noise faded with it, until there was one warm voice left. Male, with an accent of the Fae, and one he heard before, in his dreams and visions. _‘Before Arthur,’_ the voice sang to him. _‘There is Lancelot.’_

Lancelot! In the vision nine years ago… yes, he was beginning to remember. Lancelot had black hair and ice chipped eyes! Is this why Matthew was having so many visions of him recently? Because he needed to find Lancelot _before_ King Arthur? Matthew took one step closer to the fire, and Lancelot took one step out of the fire. He had Gawain and Elain. Now he needed to find Lancelot. Lancelot and Gawain, two strong pillars of King Arthur’s court… could he be working backwards?

“Where are you?” he whispered to Lancelot.

Lancelot took another step closer, the sound of something clanking together echoing his movements. The man halted, and turned his head to the fire. There were chains connecting him to the fire. He looked back at Matthew, his blue eyes wide and desperate. “Help.” This voice was rough and accented, and it seemed to speak from right beside Matthew’s ear. “Help me.”

Something snapped the chains back, and Lancelot was pulled back into the fire where he erupted into flames and disappeared. The noise of the celebration came back to Matthew, and he leaned heavily against his staff, blinking multiple times. Lancelot needed help. Lancelot needed to be found before Arthur. Oh, but how would Matthew find him? It was by pure luck he found Gawain and Elain, and he had not even been searching for them. He needed to talk with Gilbert. He craned his neck around, searching for the mop of white hair, but there was none. Antonio was gone too. They were probably off in the woods, showing each other their archery skills, if Matthew had to guess. Great.

“Matthew, please.” Feliciano was standing now. “What is it? Tell me.”

“Oh.” Had Feliciano asked that question earlier? He could not remember. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, feeling rather weary. “I-I’m fine. I think there’s a bit too much commotion going on for me right now. I’m going to step away, if that’s okay.”

Feliciano did not look entirely convinced. “Of course.” He blinked. “You can tell me, Matthew. If… If it’s about something big, I mean. I want to help.”

Matthew smiled and nodded. “I know, Feli. Thank you.” But this was something he needed to concentrate on. Perhaps it was a good thing Gilbert was not here; too many ideas being thrown around might give Matthew a headache. With a wave to Elias and Feliciano, Matthew started away from the crowd and headed deeper into the forest. He just needed to walk and clear his head while he thought of this Lancelot figure. He knew it was someone he would need to find, it was one of the names given to him nine years ago after all, but why now? So many questions…

There was a chill in the air as twilight quickly turned to dusk, but Matthew did not even tighten his cloak as he limped through the forest. His mind raced with thoughts of the _Fabula_. He had the entire thing memorized, a specialty he picked up from pouring over so many spell books, and thought of the few that mentioned Lancelot. One had been of him slaying a dragon, another of him finding a chalice with Sir Galahad, and the last telling a story of a getaway with the Faerie Elain. Matthew stopped so abruptly, he almost slipped. Elain. The Lancelot in the fire had been looking at Feliciano, who was Elain, with such desperation and longing in his eyes. Did that mean this Lancelot would mean something to Feliciano? But Feliciano was obviously still in love with Ludwig, especially considering he wore a ribbon of mourning. No one would be able to waltz into his life and sweep him off his feet any time soon… But, he looked at Elias with love in his eyes, too.

“Lancelot had a son,” Matthew whispered to himself. “Galahad. Galahad was Lancelot’s son with… with someone named Elaine.”

The eerie nighttime stillness began enclosing Matthew. No. That was impossible. Besides, the stories in the Arthurian legends he had read from children’s books did not apply in real life, they couldn’t, or else he would be an old man and Gilbert would be the nephew of King Arthur, and as Gilbert stated before, he had no family members left. And in his vision nine years ago, the giant knight Galehaut had been a slim woman. Just because Galahad was Lancelot’s son in the stories did not mean the Galahad in real life was the son of Lancelot. Because… because the Lancelot in the fire looked at Elias with love, which meant Elias would be Galahad, _which meant_ Ludwig was…

A strained laugh left Matthew. Ludwig was dead. Someone who was dead could not save Esmya. He was being ridiculous, getting ahead of himself like this. It was foolish. He needed to regroup with himself, he needed to think about where he might even find Lancelot. He needed to pick apart every damn passage in the _Fabula_-

“Are you alright?”

A gasp was ripped from Matthew in response to the deep voice. He swung himself around with his staff extended in a defensive position and his eyes widened in fear. The last person he expected to see standing between two trees was Govert. Matthew lowered his staff. “By the gods,” he whispered. “You scared me!”

Govert blinked. “Apologies,” he murmured. “It’s a habit of mine, being quiet.”

That’s right. This is the male who had snuck up on him yesterday, the one with the ability to dispel fog from his mouth. Matthew noticed a long stick at his hip. A pipe, by the looks of it. Is that the tool he used for his ability? It didn’t matter right now. “I-it’s okay. I was just, well, um. You didn’t hear anything, did you?”

“If you are referring to that rather creepy laugh you made a few moments ago, no. I did not hear anything.”

Matthew sighed. Great. Now he was going to be seen as a freak. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell.” Govert walked closer. His footsteps did not make one sound on the dried leaves and pine needles. With his scarf pulled down, mist swirled from his mouth in great puffs. “It’s why I followed you. I saw you looking at the fire earlier; I was quite certain you were going to take a running leap into it.”

The monotone voice saying something so silly made Matthew laugh quietly, though he brought his hand up to cover his mouth as the sound left him. “No, I wasn’t going to. I was just…” Hm. How would he explain that? “Lost in thought?” It sounded pathetic leaving him.

“Ah.” Govert stopped a couple paces away from Matthew, though he was close enough for Matthew to smell something sweet coming from the alpha. It was a floral scent. “I did not mean to scare you. I just wished to check and make sure you were all right. And, as it seems you are, I shall take my leave if you wish for me too.”

“No!” The word exploded from Matthew without his consent. He did not know why he said it, Govert was part of the duo that poisoned him yesterday after all. A necessary measure to take, but Matthew should be frightened of him, or wary at the very least. But he wasn’t. His intimidating demeanor did not match his rather amiable interior. “I, um. You don’t need to. Company is fine.”

Govert paused, stared at Matthew for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay.” His hand disappeared behind him, and when it reemerged, a yellow tulip was in his grasp. “I meant to give this to you yesterday, as a form of apology for what my sister and I did to you. It is the easiest way to get intruders to pass out so we may take them to camp. I know it is not pleasant, and for that I am sorry.”

Shocked, Matthew reached out and took the tulip. “Thank you.” This was the cause of the floral scent coming from Govert. He sniffed it, and the pleasant aroma tickled his nose. “I was not aware tulips bloomed in the winter.”

“They don’t.” Govert wriggled his gloved fingers. “It is a part of my magic. I can plant flowers during any season, and they will grow. Many times, I aid Feliciano in herbal work if he needs a particular flower for a patient.”

At the aspect of new magical information, Matthew grew interested. He gently stroked the petals of the tulip; they were so soft. “I would have assumed your magic to be your ability to make fog.”

Govert may have smiled, it was hard to tell. “It is, but I have this flower ability too. My sister can plant any poisonous herb and flower she wants, very similar to mine. We never met our parents, so we can only assume they had such abilities as well.”

Matthew was not entirely sure why he was surprised by this. Apparently, Feliciano never met his parents either. How many other Fae living in this village did not have the chance to meet older family members? Another crime of his father. He pushed the thoughts aside before Govert could scent the guilt on him. “I will treasure my tulip, Govert. Thank you.”

Govert nodded. Matthew thought that was that, until Govert asked, “Have you made any progress on the _Fabula_?”

“Not yet.” Matthew’s shoulders slumped. Govert gestured to the ground, and Matthew nodded. They sat down, with their backs against an oak tree. Their shoulders brushed against one another’s, but Govert did not seem bothered by it, so Matthew tried not to be either. “It does not tell me much of King Arthur, or anything really. It does not even tell me where to find the king.” Oh, there couldn’t be any harm in telling Govert this. “I actually left the celebration because I had a vision of a knight named Lancelot.”

“Arthur’s right hand.” At Matthew’s surprised look, Govert explained, “Arthurian tales have always interested me, whether they are Avalonian or not. As wicked as Avalon is today, they were not always like that.”

A good and smart alpha Govert was. “Then perhaps you could help me.” He tilted his head back and watched as the sky slowly started to light up with stars. “In my vision, Lancelot was chained to the fire and he asked for my help. Was he ever in any sort of trouble in the legends? I don’t recall that he was, but I’m beginning to doubt my knowledge on the stories I know.”

Govert grew quiet as he most likely thought. “No.” Matthew felt his shoulder lift in a shrug. “The beauty of Lancelot stemmed from his nobleness and his inability to fall into trouble. That is what made his love of Queen Guinevere so inappropriate, because he was Lancelot and Lancelot was the definition of chivalry. I am sorry, I do not think that is the answer you were looking for.”

“No, it’s okay.” Matthew narrowed his eyes. So this sort of trouble could be something new. His eyes widened. “Are you familiar with the _original_ legend of King Arthur?”

“I have never read the original,” Govert murmured. “But there is said to be a copy hidden in the library of Camelot’s palace. That is said to be the very first, written before Avalon’s establishment.”

Perhaps that one had the answers Matthew needed. He was beginning to grow tired of hunting books. “Wonderful.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and listening to the wind rustle the naked trees. Govert asked a couple questions of the _Fabula_, and Matthew tried to answer as best as he could. It was not until the questions grew more specific did Matthew realize Govert was attempting to help him understand the book. “What of the last passage you read? What did that one say?”

_“In garbs of green, he comes. Armor tightened with the garland as prickly as thorns, and holly as poisonous as yew dripping from viridescent skin. Await, a price to pay for questions not so easily answered, the Green Knight speaks. Tall as he is, Sir Gawain struck true and bold, only to be delivered the same swing thrice times over. Follow through the forest of oak and ash, with starlight as your guide and Sir Gawain at your side, and speak to the Green Knight of the riddles and answers you seek.”_ Matthew scratched the back of his head. “Absolutely nothing to do… with…”

Slowly, as if they were thinking of the same thing, Matthew and Govert looked at each other. “Questions not so easily answered,” Govert murmured.

“Speak to the Green Knight of the riddles and answers you seek,” Matthew added.

“And he is in a forest of oak and ash, just like this one.”

By the gods. Matthew drew a hand over his mouth as he started piecing the passage together. It made sense. The _Fabula did_ have the answer of where to find King Arthur, it just did not have it blatantly stated. “Govert,” he whispered. Unable to contain himself, Matthew threw his arms around the alpha, despite the very awkward angle. “Oh, Govert, thank you!”

He needed to find the Green Knight. Oh, by the gods, he would get his answer after all these months!

There was a whoosh of air, followed by something slamming into the tree above them. Immediately, Matthew and Govert drew apart, with dread rising in Matthew. An arrow was sticking from the tree. Govert got to his feet and helped Matthew to his own, and when Matthew was righted, Gilbert sauntered out of the dark thicket, followed by a very bewildered looking Antonio.

“Oh,” Gilbert’s tone was filled with nasty, faux innocence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the two of you there! Hope I wasn’t disturbing anything.”

Matthew blinked from the bow in Gilbert’s grip to the arrow that was now eyelevel with him. He frowned. “Gilbert, what the hell-”

“No, really, Birdie, I am _so sorry_.” Gilbert put a hand to his heart and fluttered his eyelashes at Matthew. “I wasn’t paying any attention and just fired that arrow! I really ought to check my surroundings, but I didn’t think anyone would be out here whispering sweet nothings on Yule! My sincerest apologies.”

Antonio raised a hand. “Um, Gilbert?”

“Are you joking?” Matthew asked, shocked. Gilbert was many things, but this behavior was so strange and rotten, the alpha must be joking.

Govert stepped forward. “That was unpleasant. You should do better than to fire an arrow at a friend, especially over something so foolish.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gilbert growled. “Though could you grab my arrow? I kind of need it.”

“_Gilbert_,” hissed Matthew.

“Gilbert, before you say anything embarrassing,” Antonio said, placing his hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “You should listen to me for a second.”

He didn’t need to. Govert yanked the arrow from the tree and stalked over to Gilbert. He was as tall as Matthew, meaning he was a couple inches taller than Gilbert. “You are jealous of another alpha speaking with the beta you care about,” Govert said bluntly. Gilbert’s cocky grin fell and his eyes widened. “That is by far the most childish thing you could do. Matthew and I were conversing of the _Fabula_, and nothing more. Do well to keep your foolish antics to yourself as to not embarrass yourself again.” He shoved the arrow against Gilbert’s chest, and turned on his heel.

When he passed Matthew, he said, “Don’t be afraid to come to me with anything else regarding the _Fabula_. I wouldn’t mind helping you.”

Matthew barely had time to nod before Govert was off, disappearing the way he came. When he was gone, Matthew whirled his meanest glare onto a dumbfounded Gilbert. Antonio shook his head. “_Ay_, my friend. If you had listened to me, you would have heard me say Govert is not interested in, well, anyone. He does not want a partner, whether they are an omega, alpha, or beta. Your Matthew is safe.”

Anger like no other burned in Matthew’s heart. He limped forward and, for the first time ever, snarled, “I am not ‘his Matthew’. I am not yours, Gilbert! I can talk to whoever I like without you throwing a, a fit of alpha jealousy! Would you like me to fire an arrow at you and Feliciano whenever I see the two of you speaking? Of course not, because why would I? You were completely out of line, what you did doesn’t even make any sense!” He yanked the bow from Gilbert’s grip and swung it over his shoulder. “There is no time for ridiculous talk such as this! By the gods, we are on a _quest_. There are so many more important things to worry about then falling into some pathetic alpha hole you dug for yourself. Now drop the stupid snarky attitude, lace your boots, and come with me, we’re going to find the Green Knight.”

Matthew did not wait for a reply, he just turned around and followed after Govert. He did not hear Antonio’s whistle, or the words spoken by the Faerie. “Boy, he almost puts Lovino to shame.”

.

The Yule celebration did not last for much longer. After dinner, alphas filled the wagons again and new smudge sticks were picked up and lit by the huge fire still roaring. Afterward, the fire was doused by canteens of water. Catalina said one more prayer, and then they were off, back to the camp. Upon noticing there was some form of strain between Gilbert and Matthew, Feliciano spoke for the entire walk, with Elias chiming in every now and then. Gilbert tried to concentrate on them, but it was so hard. He could not understand what the hell happened.

He and Antonio had been firing arrows and having a nice time together, when Gilbert noticed Matthew with the alpha Govert. They spoke so easily, which was fine, but then they hugged. For some reason, the contact caused Gilbert to see red and he fired an arrow to get their attention. Why had he done something so foolish? Why had he acted like a jealous dog? Because of that mishap, Matthew was currently giving him the silent treatment. Gilbert could not blame him. Some weird instinct came over him in the heat of the moment, and caused him to lash out, like an alpha boy who did not like to see his favorite toy being played with by someone else. No, that analogy did not sound right in this context.

“Um, so.” Feliciano laughed a bit, in that way he did whenever he was nervous. “Are you feeling better, Matthew? I understand why you walked away, I mean, sometimes the loud noise and crowd is too much for me, too!”

Naturally, Matthew smiled at Feliciano. Naturally, he ignored the alpha standing between them. Yes, Gilbert understood why Matthew was upset, but that didn’t make him feel any better. “I feel much better, Feli, thank you. In fact, walking away allowed me to crack a code in the _Fabula_.” 

Gilbert looked at Matthew in surprise. Would he explain why he said earlier they were finding someone called the Green Knight? Feliciano gasped. “Have you found the location of King Arthur?”

“Not quite.” Matthew repeated the last passage they had gone over yesterday, the one that spoke of the Green Knight. “It sounds like this Green Knight will answer any questions we have, for a price. He lives in a forest of oak and ash, just like this one. We must find him, and I would like to start searching tonight.”

Feliciano clapped his hands together as best as he could with a stick in his grip. “You’re going to ask him where King Arthur is?”

“I am.”

“Wow.” Gilbert sent him a small grin. “Nice thinking, Birdie.”

At least Matthew glanced his way and didn’t blatantly ignore him. Considering the passage spoke of Gawain, it was clear to Gilbert he would join Matthew on this little side quest. The rest of the walk was relatively silent, aside from the songs the other Fae sang to the stars. When they arrived back to camp, many Fae retired into their designated huts after disposing their smudge sticks. Matthew announced he was going to tell Catalina his discovery, and once he was gone, Feliciano immediately pounced.

“What in the goddess’s name did you do? Matthew will barely look at you!”

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I know, I know. I fucked up pretty badly. Oops, sorry, kid. Bad language.”

Elias blinked at him, opened his mouth, and, with a mischievous look at his mother, started to say, “Fu-”

_“Elias,”_ Feliciano said with a forced smile. He leant down and kissed the boy’s cheek. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed? I’ll be in to say goodnight in a moment.”

With a small groan, Elias walked into his cottage. Gilbert laughed when he was gone as Feliciano shook his head. “Lovino doesn’t control his mouth around Elias, and I’m afraid the boy is rather impressionable.”

Gilbert recalled what Elias had said to him. ‘_Yeah, and what do you know, you infertile pathetic excuse for an alpha?_’ He wondered who Lovino delivered those harsh words to. “I can tell. Hey, before you go, I want to give you something.” He had meant to do it earlier, but they were so busy today, he hadn’t found the time.

Feliciano smiled. “What is it?”

Gilbert wrapped his hand around the metal in his back pocket. There was no chain, Feliciano would have to use a piece of rope if he wanted to wear it, but that was okay. It was here, that’s all that mattered. Gilbert presented the iron cross pendant to Feliciano, and watched as the omega’s mouth fell open. “I found this nine years ago and kept it with me ever since. I believe it belongs to you.”

“Ludwig’s…” The breath caught in Feliciano’s throat. He blinked rapidly. “But, but this is yours! I can’t… he was your brother!”

“And he is your mate.” Gilbert took Feliciano’s hand and pressed the iron cross into his palm. “Wear this, so others know too.”

A tremor went through Feliciano. He stared at the iron cross with tear filled eyes, as if it were a star that had fallen from the heavens, and years of memories beneath glass orbs. Gilbert almost looked away when Feliciano pressed his lips to the metal with. He drew it away and smiled at Gilbert. “Oh, thank you, Gil.” He reached up and kissed Gilbert’s cheek lovingly. “You’ve made this one of the best Yules in years. I can’t thank you enough.” Gilbert said nothing in reply as Feliciano stared at the iron cross again. A tear dripped from his eye as he said, “I’m going to put this on. I hope you find the Green Knight, wake me if you need anything.”

Feliciano walked away with the cross pressed to his heart. Gilbert smiled softly. Feliciano needed that pendant more than Gilbert did; he had his own, after all. Besides, Feliciano had been the last one wearing it. It was his. There was rustling behind him, and when he turned his head, Matthew was walking closer. His violet eyes were bright.

“Ready?” he asked.

Gilbert nodded.

They disposed of their Yule decorations and headed into the direction of the lake they bathed in last night. It was so silent, perhaps even quieter than the night prior. The moon was full above them, and provided much needed light. It was a blessing. They walked beside each other, each keeping their eyes on the surrounding woods, though it was kind of pointless in Gilbert’s opinion. Five minutes into their little walk, he could not stop himself from asking,

“Are we supposed to be looking for anything in particular?”

No response.

Gilbert stuffed his hands into his pocket and huffed. “Like, holly? Or ivy? I need something here.”

Once again, no response.

Gilbert sighed. “You know, Birdie, you’re being pretty childish right now. You said we need to focus on this quest, and that’s what I’m trying to do. But I’m not Merlin. I’m not some grand prophet who knows what I’m looking for. I need a little more than your silence right now, because that passage said Sir Gawain should be at your side. Well, here I am! I need to know what to do.”

Matthew did not immediately speak. Gilbert assumed he would continue to act this stubborn until they found the answer to King Arthur’s whereabouts, but finally, thankfully, Matthew decided to give in. “I know. But I’m so… I’m angry, Gilbert. And confused.” He finally looked at Gilbert, though he did not cease his walking. “Why did you lash out like that? We’re just friends. I’m not even an omega, so my conversation with an alpha should not have bothered you at all.”

“I know.” Gilbert groaned and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Honestly, I have no idea what made me lash out like that. Maybe it’s because I’ve been one of the only people to be with you for the past month so seeing you be so friendly with someone else…” It didn’t even make sense coming out of his mouth. He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I swear, it won’t happen again, and if it does, you can whack me with your staff.”

“I wouldn’t whack you.” The corner of Matthew’s mouth lifted, and Gilbert’s heart soared. Did he detect the scent of maple, too? There would be room for redemption. “I apologize too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that in front of someone else. I’m sure it was humiliating.”

“Nah. Antonio said Lovino yells at him all the time.”

“How loving.”

Gilbert and Matthew grinned at each other. Easy. Things were so _simple_ between them. “Does that mean you love me again?” Gilbert asked with a flutter of his eye lashes.

Matthew scoffed. “On second thought, perhaps I will whack you.”

Laughter bubbled in Gilbert’s chest, and he reached up to wrap an arm around Matthew’s neck. “Ha! Man, look at us. Merlin and Gawain, back on the road! Nothing can stop us now!”

Gilbert’s optimism did not last for long. Their searching continued for another hour without any sort of luck. There was no green armor, or garland and holly like the passage said. There was nothing but a moonlit forest. Gilbert tried to smell the air, but his senses were a bit clogged thanks to trees of ash. It was by pure luck he scented that dog last night. Matthew was not doing much better either. He paused at every mossy rock or thorn bush to inspect the greenery. There was nothing.

“Damnit,” Gilbert hissed. “What if we can’t find him?”

“Don’t say that,” murmured Matthew. “We will.”

Gilbert was not entirely certain. They were quite far from camp, and the Orlon Forest had to end at some point. A low hanging oak appeared on their path, and Gilbert was about to volunteer to climb the tree and see if he could look for the knight from an aerial perspective, when a body swung upside down from the low branch, right in front of Gilbert. Gilbert jumped and let out a small scream of panic. It was met with a giggle and gleaming blue eyes.

“Ha! That’s the second time I scared you like this!”

It took a moment for Gilbert’s racing heart to slow, as he gripped his shirt and shook his head. Matthew did not seem disturbed at all. “Elias?” His voice was slightly pitched. “Did you follow us all the way out here?”

“Sure!” Elias skillfully leapt from the branch and onto the ground. He tilted his head to the side, his teeth glistening in the moonlight. “You guys walk kind of slow, and I’m a really good tracker. I’ve been following you for a while, actually, and no one noticed!”

With a calmed heartbeat, Gilbert slipped in front of Matthew and glared at the boy. “This is no place for kids!”

“I don’t think it’s any place for scaredy-cats either, yet here you are.”

Matthew chuckled, and then tried to cover it with a cough. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Elias, who grinned right back with his mouthful of fangs. If this brat followed them all the way from camp and caught up to them so easily, his senses must not be clogged by the ash. Perhaps there was some Fae in him, and it allowed his shapeshifting senses to be undisturbed by the ash trees. It was impressive, but he should not be here.

“You know, runt, you’ve got a different attitude when your mom isn’t around.” Pleasant, innocent, slightly mischievous, those were the fronts present with Feliciano at his side. Snarky, bratty, and cocky were apparently the attitudes reserved for Gilbert. “Does he even know you’re here?”

“No. He said he was going to work in his sketchbook for a few hours.” Elias shrugged. “He won’t even know I’m gone. Trust me, I’m great at sneaking out!”

Gilbert’s eye twitched. “Kid, you need to go back.”

Elias tilted his head to the side and blinked his wide blue eyes. “You’re going to make me walk back all by myself? In the dark? I’m just a kid! There could be monsters out here!”

Gilbert was ready to grin and say, “suck it up”, but Matthew was quick to speak. “No, we won’t make you go home.” Gilbert glared at him. “But, Elias. You must stay close to us. We don’t know what kind of creature we’re going to find. Promise me you will do as we say.”

Elias smiled. “I promise! You’re looking for the Green Knight, right? That’s what you told Mom. I think he’s over there.” Elias pointed deeper into the forest, off of the trail they were walking. “I can smell fir in that direction, like the holly and garland you said he wears! Fir doesn’t grow in the Orlon Forest, so that must be him!”

Okay, the brat was intelligent. Matthew’s eyes widened. “We need to go there, then.”

“I’ll lead you! Come on!” Elias eagerly jumped up and down as he waited for Matthew to hobble on to the adjacent path, and then he turned his head to look up at Gilbert. He put a finger beneath his eye, and pulled it down as he stuck out his tongue.

Gilbert watched the two walk away with a scowl on his face. He glared at the starry sky. “Is this payback for all the times I bullied you when we were kids?” He gritted his teeth as he followed Matthew and Elias. “Just wait until I see you in the afterlife, little brother. Just you wait.”

..

Thirty minutes later, the harsh scent of holly filled the air. The three paused at the overwhelming scent. It seemed to be pouring out of the forest, from every single direction. The wind picked up around them, rustling the fallen leaves and their hair. Gilbert gripped Elias’s arm and tugged the boy behind him. Matthew’s hushed voice said, “My staff, it’s warming.”

And then, in the drop of moon light gleaming between the branches above, a horse and its rider emerged from the darkness. Gilbert’s eyes widened. The horse was as green as the leaves in summer, wearing a bridle and saddle made of vines. Its dark green mane was braided with mistletoe and red berries, there was even a piece of it behind one of its ears. Beside the horse walked a gray, long legged dog, the same one they had seen last nice. And riding atop the horse was an individual clad in green armor. Garland and hollies were woven across his body, and ivy curled around the handle of the axe at his back. His face had a viridescent glow, just like the passage said. His silver hair was tied in a ponytail, with a few strands falling in front of his ears. His face was one lined with age, appearing to be in his mid-fifties. His green eyes held a hint of blue to them as they beheld the three individuals before him. He gently pulled at the reins, and the horse halted.

“The Green Knight,” Matthew whispered.

“By the gods,” Gilbert murmured. He could feel Elias grip his pants. “He’s huge.”

The knight took them each in slowly, as if he were calculating something unknown to Gilbert. When he spoke, his mouth did not move, but they each heard his voice as clear as day. _“You have been searching for me, have you not?”_

His voice was rich with an accent Gilbert thought to be similar to his own. Perhaps this phantom knight was a shapeshifter in a past life. “W-we have.” He cursed his wavering voice. “We come with questions.”

_“Merlin, Gawain, and Galahad.”_ The knight lowered his chin. _“I have waited many years for you to arrive.”_

He knew them. Gilbert and Matthew exchanged glances. He knew of them, but the other name was foreign to him. Galahad. It was not a character he knew from the legends. He looked down at Elias, still gripping his pants tightly. The only other person here was Elias. By the gods, did a mere child have the name of some Arthurian knight too? It was almost too much. He looked at the knight with protectiveness bubbling inside his chest.

“That’s well and good, but we need our questions answered, old man.”

The Green Knight raised an eyebrow. “_Gawain the White Wolf. I have especially been awaiting your arrival_.” He reached behind him and picked up the axe at his back. Maybe Gilbert stepped too far. He shoved Elias further back as he and Matthew started to back up. _“Questions answered by I only come from those who are pure of heart. Those who are pure will not hide from the consequences enacted upon them from answers given.”_

With ease, the Green Knight dismounted his horse. His armor clanked together as he walked forward, on legs far too long, with a body far too big, and stopped in front of Gilbert. Matthew took Elias’s hand and lead him away from Gilbert, as to which the alpha was thankful. His nephew would not get hurt.

_“This will be the test of courage,”_ the Green Knight continued. He handed the axe to Gilbert. _“If you are to swing right and true in order to behead me, you will pass and I will answer your questions. If you fail, I will deliver the same dealing to you.”_

Gilbert’s eyes widened. If he were not pure of heart, he would lose his head to a giant? He stared at the weightless axe in his hands. The ivy curled around his own hands, keeping them wrapped on the handle. Runes were scratched into the iron blade. His eyes widened. His dream last night featured an axe just like this one. He had brushed the dream off as a nightmare brought on by the last passage they had read in the _Fabula_, but here it was. Coming true. He glanced at Matthew and Elias. Elias’s eyes were wide, but Matthew had his narrowed. He smiled softly and placed a hand over his heart, and then he nodded.

_You are good of heart._

If Matthew believed in him… Gilbert looked back at the knight. ‘_Gods, Ludwig. Help me out here_.’ He raised the axe, counted to ten, and swung. Elias screamed as the blade sliced the knight’s head clean off, and fell directly into the knight’s awaiting hands. Gilbert dropped the axe in horror. He just beheaded someone. His heart slammed against his chest, and sweat beaded on his forehead. What had he done? He was waiting for the body to drop, for blood to come gushing from the wound, but neither happened. From the wound, holly sprouted in a dazzling spectacle. The body did not fall, it stayed upright. And most shocking of all, the head in the knight’s hands spoke.

_“I will answer each question you have. But keep in mind, for every question you ask, a consequence will be delivered on the one who swung the axe.”_

Gilbert barely understood him, he was too shocked by the events happening. He barely felt the cautious hand Matthew placed against his back, or the small, shy laugh Elias gave. There was a headless knight speaking to them. Wow.

“We need to think about this,” Matthew whispered, cutting through the haze in Gilbert’s mind. How was he so damn calm? “You’re the one who beheaded him, Gil, so you put a limit on the questions. How many?”

How many punishments was he willing to take, whatever that meant. The knight did not say death, so that was probably good. He also had a feeling if he asked what sorts of punishments were to be delivered, the knight would answer it as one of the questions he was supposed to ask. They had to be reserved for the important stuff. Shakily, he murmured, “Let’s set it for three.”

Matthew nodded. “Three it is. Here’s what we need to ask…”

With their questions listed, and Gilbert no longer in danger of passing out, he straightened and grinned at the knight’s head. “Okay, here’s number one. Where is the mythical King Arthur?”

The knight did not look surprised. “_He resides in the heart of Camelot.”_

Gilbert waited for more because, oh come on, that could not be the entire answer. “The heart of Camelot.” He frowned. “Did you just give us a second rid-”

“Gilbert, hush!” Matthew yanked his wrist. “Don’t ask another question! Besides, he answered ours. Don’t you know what the heart of Camelot is?” Gilbert shook his head, bewildered. Matthew smiled. He smiled so widely, his cheeks were shaking. “Camelot’s architecture went down in history because of its design! The palace was built before anything else, making it the heart of Camelot. It is in the dead center of the city. King Arthur is in Camelot’s palace!”

Gilbert’s eyes widened. They had it. They had his location. Gilbert breathed out a shaky sigh and laughed. He laughed as Matthew grabbed his hands and squeezed them. No longer were they on a wild goose chase; they had a location!

The knight was silent as they calmed down. Two more questions, and then they could be on their way. This one, Matthew was supposed to ask. He just said they needed to know about Lancelot before they found Arthur, that was all Matthew could say in the small window they had a few seconds ago. Gilbert trusted Matthew, this would be the right question.

“Where is the one known as Lancelot?” Matthew asked.

The knight closed his eyes. “_In Avalon, on the path that cuts through the kingdom. Ten follow him.”_

Bloody great, they could decipher that later. Gilbert drew in a breath, ready to ask the last question, but Elias beat him to it. “Who is Lancelot?”

Thank the gods the runt knew what to ask.

The knight opened his eyes, and stared directly at Elias. “_Lancelot is the father of Galahad.”_

Something in Gilbert’s chest tightened. “Wait.”

Elias stared up at the Green Knight with thinly veiled determination. He did not falter as the head peered down at him, nor did he pause at the strange answer. “You called me Galahad before, but Lancelot is not the name of my father. His name was Ludwig Beilschmidt.”

“_Then,_” the Green Knight said. “_You have your answer.”_

His phrasing made it sound like… Gilbert pressed a hand to his forehead. No, things were moving too quickly. The ground was splitting at his feet, the sky was crashing to the earth, there were arrows being fired at him. This knight was wrong. Because, because his brother, Elias’s father, was dead. His tongue felt like lead as he spoke. “You’re wrong. Ludwig- Ludwig Beilschmidt is dead.”

_“Funny.”_ The knight’s eyes slid to Matthew for some reason. _“One cannot save Esmya from the afterlife. Besides, I know all of the answers in this universe. I am not wrong. What I say is truth itself.”_

As the Green Knight lifted his head, as the hollies at his neck stitched his body back together, Gilbert fell to his knees. Matthew crouched beside him, and wrapped his arms around Gilbert’s shoulders. Even Elias fell back with a face devoid of everything but wonder.

_“A word of caution. Inside Lancelot, a heart of gold resides. Tainted and rusted, the gold now lays. Who is the one who calls himself Lancelot? Beware Gawain, do not fall to his taunts. Beware Galahad, do not fall to his trickery. Entrust the light of Merlin and the heart of Elain. For only they may free Lancelot,”_ the knight said as he mounted his horse. He gave a small snap of the reins, and the horse began walking away from the patch of moonlight in the forest, and into the darkness. The dog walked obediently at his side. _“Soon, Gawain. We shall speak soon.”_

The Green Knight disappeared into the shadows. The axe lay in front of Gilbert, ready to be picked up by the one known as Gawain. The three did not move for minutes as they let everything sink in. And then, when they could easily repeat the words the Green Knight had given them, they stood and moved as quickly as they could back to camp, where the one known as Elain waited.

.

The moon was setting as Feliciano paced the center of camp, as he had been doing for the past ten minutes. His footsteps were frantic as he moved from side-to-side, unable to sit and be still. Elias was gone, he had left the camp, and most likely followed after Gilbert and Matthew. It was not the first time he snuck out, and Feliciano was sure it would not be the last, but it still frightened him to no end. Elias was not even ten years-old, he could get hurt. He could easily find a wild animal, and get- No. Feliciano would not think like that.

When Feliciano decided to stop working in his sketchbook and walked into the little room he shared with his son, he found Elias’s bed to be empty and cold. Feliciano had almost awoken Lovino, but he told himself no. Elias would come back. There would be no point chasing after him. At least, that’s what Feliciano thought to himself. Elias was a good tracker, the best in the entire camp. He would find Gilbert and Matthew. Oh, but what if _they_ were in trouble? By the goddess, how was he going to get that boy to start listening?

His hand fumbled with the pendant now hanging from his neck by a thin piece of rope, and his pacing ceased. “Ludwig,” he whispered. “I am trying so hard, but I have no idea what to do.” His eyes filled with tears. He had tried suppressing these thoughts all day, but now, with stress taking control, it was spilling out. “Matthew and Gilbert say I’m Elain, Catalina says I’m the Wayward Faerie. They say I have to leave to go on some quest to find the Once and Future King and the Faerie Queen, but I…” He sighed. “I can’t just leave Elias. Lovino already said he would take care of him, but he’s such a troublemaker. I’m afraid of what will happen if I’m not there.” He blinked at the stars, the very same ones he and his beloved would look at every night. “You always knew what to do. I wish you could tell me what to do now.”

But there was no answer, like always. But that was okay, there didn’t need to be one, because Feliciano knew what Ludwig would do. If he were here, he would find Elias and, if he were being honest, scold the boy until he cried. Feliciano might not be capable of the latter, but he could most certainly do the former. Without wasting another minute, Feliciano headed for the forest.

But he stopped soon enough when Elias burst from the bushes. His eyes were frantic as he took in Feliciano, and then raced over to him. Feliciano kneeled to the ground as Elias crashed into him. “_Mamma! Mamma_! You have to listen!”

“Where in the goddess’s name were you?” he whispered breathlessly as he ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, trying to check for cuts or scratches. There were none. He looked around, waiting for Gilbert and Matthew to come next, but they didn’t. Elias had been by himself then. “You snuck out again, after you promised me you wouldn’t do that anymore!”

“But, _Mamma_!” Elias leapt from his hold. “Listen! Dad’s alive! He’s alive!”

The words were like a slap to Feliciano’s face. He stared, dumbfounded, at his son. He was hearing things. There was no way Elias could be so… so… “Elias.”

“He is, _Mamma_! The Green Knight said he was on a path; Dad’s alive, _Mamma_! Just like Gilbert.” The excitement in Elias’s voice suddenly disappeared with a small gasp. He blinked. “Just like Gilbert.” His eyes narrowed. “He did abandon us. He didn’t die, like you said. He did abandon us, like everyone-”

For the first time, Feliciano placed his hands on Elias’s shoulders and shook him. “_Elias, stop talking_.” Elias’s eyes widened and his mouth quickly closed. Feliciano shook his head, it was all he could do as another tear fell from his eye. “Do not lie to my face. I cannot stand to have you say something like that, Elias, I can’t. And please.” His voice broke as another tear fell. “I am begging you with every fiber of my being, _stop_ saying your father abandoned us. That man took a blade in the chest for your uncle and me- please. Do not listen to what others say, because he didn’t- he would never-” He almost choked on a sob. “I have tried my hardest to get you to understand what a good alpha he was, but you don’t listen. Please, Elias. Please. _Try_.”

The breath caught in his throat again. If he continued speaking, he was going to scream and he could not have that. His hands fell from Elias’s shoulders and furiously moved to his own face, to wipe the tears that quickly fell. Elias’s voice was small as he whispered, “But… _Mamma_, I’m not lying.”

“Elias, please.” Feliciano was going to fall apart right in front of us son, something he vowed he would never do. Every careful thread stitched within him, blocking out the pain and misery and loneliness would come undone. And he would never be able to forgive himself. “Go inside, and go to bed. Please.”

Feliciano was vaguely aware of someone walking closer to them, of that same someone whispering, “Feli, what happened?” Lovino must have woken from Feliciano’s raised voice.

“Nothing.” Feliciano shakily stood and finished wiping his face. “Everything is fine, Lovino. Elias just snuck out again.”

“Mom, please-”

“Elias, I am going to count to ten.” Feliciano covered his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing so he wouldn’t accidentally snarl or stomp or scream. Elias was just confused. He was just a confused boy who was growing up without his father, and was instead given an incompetent mother. “And when I get to number ten, you will be inside.”

There was crashing, followed by a shout, and then a curse, and a moment later, Gilbert and Matthew exploded from the same bush Elias had come from. Feliciano dropped his hand. Unfamiliar anger danced inside of him. Maybe Elias had been with these two, and if he had, why the hell hadn’t they brought him home? He was ready to scream that very question at them, when Gilbert shot forward and took him by the shoulders.

Lovino stalked forward now. “What the hell is going on? Get your hands off my brother!”

“Feli!” Gilbert gasped out. It sounded like he had been running for hours. “Ludwig! _Ludwig is alive!_ Ludwig is alive, Feli! _Ludwig Beilschmidt is alive!_”

There was a storm inside Feliciano. Gilbert would not lie, Gilbert would not believe something unless he knew it to be one hundred percent accurate. Gilbert was telling the truth. The storm erupted within him, and it shook him to his core, weakening him until all he could do was sink to his knees and hold on to Lovino as his brother wrapped him within his arms and stroked his hair. He barely felt himself reach for Elias and pull him close, and cry, and cry, and cry over and over again. He did not hear the sound of thundering hooves echo through the camp, did not hear a familiar voice shout for Catalina, and did not wonder that person sounded so frantic right now. All he heard was the vow he gave thirteen years ago.

_‘I vow, Ludwig, that I will always follow you. No matter if you end up going to the Underworld itself, I will follow you. If you’re trapped inside, I will find you and I will free you. I will, I promise you I will.’_

Through his gasps of breath, he made another vow to himself: he was going to find his mate. Feliciano Beilschmidt was going to find Ludwig no matter who or what decided to stand in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great news, the next two chapters are going to be angst filled. Well, chapter 10 will be more suspenseful, but chapter 11. Oh boy. I cannot wait to get to that one
> 
> .  
Yes, The Green Knight is Frederick the Great! I'm sure every Prussia/Germany/Austria stan in this fandom knows everything there is to know about Old Fritz, but I'm going to sprinkle in some fun facts about him anyway:
> 
> -Frederick loved his greyhounds so much, he is actually buried beside them. That's why he has one in this story, to honor that pure love in his real life.
> 
> -In this, Fritz is huge, but in real life, he was quite short. 5'5'', if my knowledge proves correct. I might be wrong, it's been a few years since I read his biography.
> 
> Other notes:
> 
> -The religion of Wicca still celebrates the pagan holiday of Yule, it is one of the lesser Sabbats on the Wheel of the Year. Basically, it's the celebration of the winter solstice, though different branches of the Wicca celebrate different things.
> 
> -It is mentioned here that Norge believe their gods live in trees. This is actually taken from real life! The Germanic tribes believed their gods to live in trees, which is why we have Christmas trees! Isn't that the coolest thing in the world? I almost fell over when I figured that out. In fact, most Christmas traditions come from paganism. Mistletoe? Yule log? Garland? Wreaths? Christmas trees? All pagan Yule traditions. I know, freaking awesome.
> 
> Now I'm off to read about Hitler's rise to power and the different political parties during post Weimar Germany, and attempt to compose an argumentative paper on my findings. Wish me luck, and thank you for reading!


	10. Burned to Ash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a challenging one. It turns rather dark toward the end, but I am sensing some heavy PruCan in the next chapter. As an apology?
> 
> There are quite a lot of POV changes in this chapter, and I do apologize for that. It's just how this chapter worked out. There won't be this many in the future of this fic, I promise!
> 
> Please enjoy!

“Catalina! Catalina, I must speak to you!”

The frantic shout came from the north-side of camp, toward the official entrance. As if he were waking from a long slumber, Matthew slowly raised his gaze from the ground, where Feliciano cried with Elias in his arms and Lovino knelt at his side, to look at the speaker. The moon provided more than enough light for the man and his horse to be seen. His tan pants were tight, and tucked into golden buckled brown boots. His sky blue jacket was buttoned half way, revealing a white shirt and cravat. The white horse’s reins and saddle were decorated in blue, too. This man was clearly a noble.

“There’s too much going on right now,” Lovino growled as he stroked Feliciano’s hair. In a softer voice, he whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Feli.” But his words did not sound certain.

Antonio stumbled from one of the huts, shock evident on his face as he took in Feliciano and Lovino, but Lovino shook his head. Antonio headed for the dismounting nobleman instead, his gestures easy and not at all stiff. It was enough to tell Matthew this nobleman was a friend. It didn’t matter right now, because Matthew needed to concentrate on Feliciano and Gilbert, who looked like he was going to fall over as he hurriedly paced beside them with a body shaking like a leaf in the wind. He gripped Gilbert’s arm in order to stop him.

“Take deep breaths, Gil. Try to calm down.”

Gilbert’s eyes were bright, and if Matthew had the hearing ability of the Fae, he was quite certain he would be able to hear the alpha’s pounding heart. “I can’t calm down!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “My brother is alive. He’s alive, Birdie. _Alive_. A-and he’s on some path, in Avalon! That’s… we’re in Avalon!”

If the circumstances were different, Matthew might have smiled from the elated excitement Gilbert displayed, but he couldn’t. Not now. He squeezed Gilbert’s arm. “I know we are, but if you don’t attempt to calm yourself, you might have a panic attack.”

Gilbert’s eyebrows drew together. Tremors ran through the arm Matthew had clutched in his grip, and his fangs clattered together loudly. Matthew was brought back to the horrid time he and Kuma rescued Gilbert from the frozen lake, how Gilbert’s body shook and clattered just like this. The terror Matthew had felt back then, of not knowing if his friend would live, could never be repeated. He squeezed Gilbert’s arm again and looked him deep in the eye as he inhaled loudly. Gilbert repeated the action shakily. Matthew counted to five, and then released it, followed momentarily by Gilbert. They continued the process three more times before Gilbert suddenly wrapped his arms around Matthew and pressed close as close as their bodies would allow.

Shocked, Matthew did nothing but stand there as Gilbert hugged him. Matthew was surprised at the lankiness of Gilbert’s body, of the feeling of his ribs and hips pressing against his own. A thorn pierced his heart when Gilbert hid his face in the crook of his neck, his damp eyelashes fluttering against the skin. Without any more hesitation, Matthew wrapped his arm around Gilbert’s waist and dropped his staff, so he could hold the back of his head with his other hand. Gilbert needed him right now.

“_Vögelchen_.” Gilbert’s teeth clanged against his words. “_Danke, mein Freund_.”

The words sounded like rough gibberish to Matthew, he had never heard them before, but there was so much emotion in Gilbert’s voice, he knew the words were special. He tightened his grip around the trembling body and closed his eyes. “I’m here, Gil,” he murmured softly. “We’re going to find your brother. I promise you.”

Because Ludwig, if he were Lancelot, needed to be found before they were able to get to King Arthur. A strange thought entered Matthew’s mind: if Ludwig were not destined to be Lancelot, would he still promise Gilbert they would find him? It was like a cold splash of water descended over Matthew. What a silly thought, of course he would! He opened his eyes and found Feliciano wiping his own desperately as Lovino held him, and as Elias stared at him in concern. Surely, Matthew would not let Feliciano and Gilbert suffer any longer with their grief and trauma… right? Matthew realized something as he listened to Feliciano attempt to calm down, and as he felt Gilbert’s trembles slowly subside; he realized he needed to figure out what was more important to him: this prophecy or the friends he was making. Where did his loyalties truly lie?

The thought was a sobering one, to say the least.

Slowly, Gilbert peeled himself away from Matthew, with eyes redder than before. His nose twitched. “What’s wrong?” His teeth no longer gnashed together with his shivering. “Your scent soured. Are you okay?”

Matthew quickly nodded, shaking the last remnants of his revelation from his mind. Something so selfish was not meant to be shared with Gilbert. “I’m fine, or as fine as I should be right now.” He smiled genuinely as he swayed unsteadily without his staff. “You calmed down.”

Only small shakes went through Gilbert now. The brunt of the attack seemed to be over. “Yeah,” Gilbert said with a small smile. He swooped down to pick up the discarded staff, and he quickly handed it to Matthew. It did not glow, but when Matthew took it from him, it was thrumming with more warmth than ever before. Something akin to guilt pricked at Matthew’s heart from the feeling.

“What’s going on?” Catalina’s voice rang through the night as she emerged from her hut. Her eyes paused on Feliciano and Lovino, but they quickly moved along to Antonio and the nobleman. Even from the distance Matthew was at, he could see the paleness in Antonio’s cheeks. Catalina hurried over. “Francis, you’re early! What-”

“One million apologies, Catalina, but the pleasantries and questions will have to wait for the time being,” the nobleman called Francis said grimly. “Avalon has declared war on Norge.”

Catalina’s eyes bulged. She swayed on her feet, and Antonio quickly leapt to her side to steady her. Matthew had to lean almost entirely against his staff from the words. He was not sure if they should even be listening, but _war_. So soon? Gilbert moved to his right and growled, “What the hell?”

Catalina started to speak. “But Queen Ayiana…”

“Her predictions were wrong,” Francis murmured. “Anything can change her predictions, we know this. Something must have happened that quickened Alexander’s progress.”

At this point, other Fae were stumbling from their huts, probably waking from all of the commotion. Many were whispering, others were hesitantly creeping forward. Lovino and Feliciano were standing again, the latter holding onto his iron cross for dear life. Matthew did not need to have the nose of an alpha or omega to detect the uncertainty and fear in the cold air.

Catalina did not speak as Antonio, Francis, and everyone else stared at her. Matthew and Gilbert exchanged looks of concern, because right now, in the moonlight, Catalina looked very old. It was impossible for a Fae to look over the age of thirty or forty, but here, this one looked so weary and tired. And from the bright worry on Antonio’s face, Matthew knew he could see it too. Everyone here could. Finally, she spoke, though it was without her usual friendliness.

“We must speak immediately. I will address the camp when we are done, but in the meantime, everyone can relax.” Her gaze swept over to Matthew. “Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano, come with us.” Then she turned around and limped back into her hut. A Fae took the reins of the white horse from Francis and walked the beast to the post the other horses were tied to, which allowed Francis and Antonio to quickly follow Catalina into the hut.

“War with Norge,” Lovino breathed, his breath misting out in front of him.

“This can’t be good.” Gilbert growled softly. “We have enough going on, we don’t need this.”

Feliciano came to Gilbert’s other side and sighed shakily. Matthew wanted to console the little Fae, but it didn’t look like he needed to. There was a sharp glint in Feliciano’s amber eyes, one he had never seen before. He looked scared, but determined at the same time. He was ready to head into the unknown to find his mate, just as Matthew was willing to do for this Avalonian king.

“Can I come?” Elias’s little voice asked.

The severity left Feliciano for a moment as he looked down and patted the boy’s head. “No, sweet boy. I will tell you what happens, but for now you must try and get some rest. It’s been a long night. Will you go inside and attempt to sleep for me?”

Matthew did not expect Elias to sigh and nod. After a quick departing kiss, Elias walked into the cottage and shut the door. Lovino patted Feliciano’s back and then muttered, “Let’s go.”

The four walked into Catalina’s hut, but unlike the last time they had gathered, there was no hopeful anticipation. This time there was just dread. Antonio stood behind his mother, with the Francis at Catalina’s side. He looked up when the others entered, and bowed his head in greeting. Then his blue eyes landed on Matthew, the last to hobble in, and he froze. Matthew froze too, though he was not entirely sure why. Francis blinked a few times, and the shock over his face quickly drained away until he was left with a tiny smile. Matthew did not know what to make of it.

Antonio gestured to them. “Francis, this is Matthew and Gilbert, two new allies. Matthew and Gilbert, this is Captain Francis Bonnefoy, Camelot’s captain of the guard. Don’t worry, he is a friend.”

Francis bowed his head again. “I do wish the circumstances were different, but it’s a pleasure nonetheless.” He smiled softly as he straightened. “And it’s always wonderful to see you again, Feliciano and Lovino.”

This man worked in Camelot as the captain of the King’s guard. But if he were here, that meant he was… betraying King Alexander. Why would he be here? Matthew and Gilbert looked at each other again.

“I’m confused,” Gilbert said, turning sharp eyes onto Catalina. “Why is the captain of the guard _here_ of all places?”

Catalina did not make a sound. She waved her hand toward Antonio, who began speaking instead. “We couldn’t tell you, even if you two are on our side.” He took a deep breath. “The Fae living here are all a part of a resistance, headed by Queen Victoria herself, though we refer to her as Queen Ayiana.” Matthew shivered. His birth mother was leading a _rebellion_? He did not miss the way Gilbert stiffened beside him, though he relaxed fairly quickly. “We work with the town Bannockburn in order to take some power away from Alexander, which is why Francis is here. He acts as a messenger from Camelot, delivering parcels from Queen Ayiana to Bannockburn and the Orlon Forest.

Basically, we are trying to give some semblance of power back to other towns that were once powerful in their own right. Bannockburn once held tremendous influence under House Kirkland, but it was stripped away from them years ago when Alexander forced Lord Kirkland to step down. Every resource, every person, every nonliving and living thing in Bannockburn is under complete surveillance by Camelot, just like every other major town in Avalon. It is no way to live.” His green eyes began to smolder. It was disturbing to see such a friendly face turn murderous. “And I don’t think I need to mention what that king has done to my kind.”

“Here, here,” Gilbert spat.

“My loyalty is to Queen Ayiana,” Francis added with his arms crossed. “I have been aiding her since I was a boy. I will admit, this entire resistance is slow moving, but we must be. One wrong move, and the Fae here will be found, and the people of Bannockburn will be arrested. Let’s not forget the way Alexander quelled resistances in the past.” His gaze darkened. “You both understand the secrecy of this resistance, yes? It is vital that you keep quiet about it.”

Gilbert laughed. “By the gods, we’re on your side. Besides, we’ve got some vital secrets too, ones that could probably help you.”

“Please, don’t mind his tongue.” Matthew cleared his throat. “We would never dream of exposing this rebellion. And Gilbert is right. We, um, have secrets that are most likely beneficial to this rebellion.”

A light returned to Francis’s eyes and, once again, he smiled softly in Matthew’s direction. “That must explain why the two of you are here, then.”

“They arrived two days ago.” Catalina finally spoke with a weary voice. Her eyes held question as she looked at Matthew. He nodded, giving her clearance. “They are on a quest to find the rightful king of Avalon.” Francis’s eyes widened. “And it seems they have found another member to join their party.”

Her eyes flitted to Feliciano. Francis’s widened eyes continued to grow in size as he pieced together what was just said. “Little Feli? You’re going with them?”

Lovino straightened. “That hasn’t been decided.”

“Yes, it has,” Feliciano said. Matthew stared at the Faerie in surprise, as did Gilbert. There hadn’t been any sort of confirmation of what Feliciano was going to do, but apparently he had made up his mind. With everyone’s eyes on him, Feliciano shifted on his feet and scooted closer to Lovino. “I’m going to join Matthew and Gilbert on their quest.”

A knot untied itself from Matthew’s chest. Elain would join them, he would not have to try and persuade Feliciano to leave his son behind. Catalina smiled. “That is wonderful, Feli. As the Wayward Faerie, you will-”

“No.” Feliciano’s voice shook slightly as he interrupted his leader. “I’m sorry to cut in, but please, don’t be mistaken.” He lowered his head. “You say I’m the Wayward Faerie, that I’m supposed to go on some journey to find the Faerie Queen, but I can’t accept that yet. I can barely accept being this Elain figure.” He blinked up at Matthew, who smiled reassuringly. He understood how hard acceptance could be. Feliciano straightened at the smile and took a deep breath.

“I just found out my mate is alive,” he whispered. “I vowed to him I would always find him, especially if he needed me.” His hand gripped the iron cross. “And I have a very bad feeling that he needs me. I am going to find him, no matter what. And I’m sorry that I am not focusing on this Faerie Queen but… but… can someone please tell me what the Fae have done for me in the past nine years?” Tears pooled inside his amber eyes as he stared directly at Catalina. “You, Lovino, Antonio, Govert, and Manon have been the only ones in this entire camp who have done anything for me, who have helped Elias and me, and who never once discriminated against us. Everyone else either ignored us, or spat in our faces. Why would I want to find a queen who views shapeshifters- who will view my own son with such hatred and disgust like every other Fae here?”

Gilbert rested a hand on Feliciano’s back, and the Fae took a small breath. “Ludwig is my mate. Even if he no longer loves me, I have to find him. I have to make sure he is okay, because he would do the same for me.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “After I find Ludwig, and after I make sure he is _completely_ okay, I will focus on the Faerie Queen. But for now, I am going to concentrate on my mate.”

For once, when Feliciano spoke, his words were slow, like each one had been chosen after meticulous planning. When he spoke like that, everyone inside the hut listened.

Catalina’s face was void of emotion, and Lovino even looked a bit angry, but Antonio nodded as he smiled warmly. “You always follow your heart, Feli. I’m with you on this, completely.”

“I cannot say the same,” Catalina said. “You claimed your mate dead for nine years, what has suddenly changed?”

Matthew almost flinched from the blunt words, but Feliciano didn’t so much as twitch. He did not speak, he just lifted his chin and met Catalina’s gaze evenly. Is this what love was capable of? Making them stronger? Matthew and Gilbert took turns explaining the whole situation with the Green Knight, from the location of the rightful king to Lancelot. Gilbert even showed off the new axe at his back.

When they were finished, Francis whistled. “It seems there is much I am unaware of.”

“We will speak later of it,” said Catalina briskly. “For now, explain this war.”

Francis did. He spoke of Avalon’s sudden declaration against Norge, how Alexander and his troops departed one week ago without a single call to arms. And then, he started talking about the creatures Alexander was leading. “They are daemons. Alexander has the power to create and summon these dark beings from the Underworld, and he has absolute control over them.” Matthew remembered those dark beings that looked like black lizards in his vision nine years ago. Those things were real. He always assumed, but to have it confirmed… Gilbert cursed softly.

“These daemons are not the only things in his army,” Francis continued. “Have you, Matthew and Gilbert, heard of Ironteeth witches?” They shook their heads. “They are Alexander’s pride, just like his shapeshifters. Omegas were snatched from homes across Avalon, and they were experimented on, turned into mutants. By extracting blood from dragons and witches, and mixing them into omegas, Alexander is able to turn even the sweetest of omegas into cold blooded killers with hearts of stone. They become stronger, quicker, and smarter. They have their gums slit in order to make room for iron, so iron may slide over their teeth like a coat of fangs. The same thing with their fingers.” Francis removed a glove and pointed to the spot right below his nail. “This part of their fingers are slit too, so iron may be imbedded inside, and with a flick of their wrist, iron as sharp and long as daggers come out, with the strength to impale a horse.

Their ovaries are removed to prevent them from having children, and from going into heat because their number one priority is killing and maiming. They are no better than monsters, forgive me for saying.”

Feliciano was shaking, Gilbert was as pale as the moon, and Matthew’s stomach was churning. To do something as awful as this… He was thankful for Gilbert’s close proximity. “How many does he have?” Matthew asked with a mouthful of cotton.

“A battalion of them, roughly two-hundred or so.”

The number was small for a human army, but for cold blooded killers devoid of everything but the sense to kill? It was more than enough. Francis continued, “It took a long time for Alexander to get it right, I can’t tell you how many omegas died during the early stages of this project.” His eyes narrowed. “I have a good friend in the palace who is one of Alexander’s “failed” experiments. He has the teeth and the nails, but not the heart of a killer. To Alexander, he is a failure, so he forced him to become Prince Alfred’s personal guard. He was only thirteen at the time.”

“Bullshit,” Gilbert hissed.

“I wish it were the case,” Francis sighed. “They are known as Ironteeth witches, and they are his fighters. Let’s not forget his shapeshifters, the ones he’s been training relentlessly for years in order for them to obey his every command. Some even wear collars with daemons hiding inside, but those are reserved for the shifters that are not so easy to control.”

“What does this have to do with the war, Francis?” Catalina asked. “The rest of us know of his dark army.”

Francis was quiet for a moment. “Apparently, Alexander is leading his daemons and witches to Norge to invoke fear. He will then bring legions of men to finish them off later on.”

The stillness that settled over them was not a natural one. Matthew couldn’t believe it. War was coming, it was almost upon them, and if Norge were to fall, Avalon would basically have complete control over Esmya. What then? Could a prophesized king and queen do anything against Alexander at that point? He swallowed the growing panic within him. They needed to move.

It seemed Catalina agreed, because she stood up and walked across her hut until she made it to Matthew. She took Matthew’s hand in hers. “You need to leave as soon as you can,” she said urgently. “You must find King Arthur and the Faerie Queen. Without them, Esmya will fall. All of you.” She looked into Gilbert’s eyes, then Feliciano’s. “You _must_ complete this quest. I speak for the entirety of Esmya when I say you cannot fail.” She looked back into Matthew’s eyes. “_Do not fail_.”

Inside Matthew’s chest, his heart thundered with the force of a storm. Catalina was right, they must hurry before there was no longer a continent to save. They would find Lancelot, then they would head into Camelot, and then they would get to King Arthur. This is what he was destined to do, what they were each destined to do.

“We won’t.”

Matthew prayed his confidence would not be in vain.

Before long, Matthew, Gilbert, Feliciano, and Lovino retreated from the hut in order to get a few hours of sleep in. Francis hoped Matthew had not been off put by his lingering gazes or gentle smiles, but he simply could not help himself, not when the boy looked to be the spitting image of Prince Alfred.

Paler skin, longer hair, and eyes of his mother instead of father, but the resemblance to the crowned prince was almost disturbing. This had to be Philip Jones Pendragon, the firstborn son of Ayiana and Alexander, the very one Francis helped dispose of eighteen years ago. He was alive, and, though unknowingly, he was helping his mother tremendously. Francis wondered if Queen Ayiana had seen this part of her son’s life when she looked into his future all those years ago, before she twisted his knee. To this day, Francis still remembered the piercing, painful wails of the babe.

Regardless, Queen Ayiana would be pleased to know Philip- no, Matthew was doing well. It certainly eased some tension in Francis’s heart. Catalina let out a long sigh as she sat back down. Antonio placed a hand to her shoulder in silent reassurance.

“You have letters sent by Queen Ayiana, don’t you?” Catalina asked.

“That I do.” Francis slipped his satchel from his shoulder. “Before I forget, I spoke with Allistor; his spies reported a group of Avalonian shapeshifters heading for the Orlon Forest.”

Antonio’s eyes widened. “How could they have found us?”

“I don’t know,” Francis confessed. “We did not discuss it for long. However the general leading them is, well. He is a dangerous man. A skilled warrior and a trained sadist. He has never expressed an interest in Fae before, but if he were to find his way here, it would not end well for you.”

“Allistor’s spies have been wrong before,” Catalina said with a hardened look in Francis’s direction. “Avalon will be busy with Norge, they should not have time for mere rumors like us.”

“We can’t be so arrogant,” Antonio argued. “There is always the possibility that the spies are right!”

“You do not want to act flippantly with this general,” Francis pressed. “He is a-”

“I know Avalonian generals, boy,” Catalina hissed with a far-off look in her green eyes. Francis and Antonio exchanged a glance at the unexpected outburst. “They are just weak alphas who were given too much power; they have too big of swords and bottomless flasks. We do not need to make ourselves sick with worry over one.”

Francis thought of General Beilschmidt. As captain of the guard, his duties sometimes required him to descend into the dungeon of the palace, and it was during one of those occasions that he ran into the general. In the dim candlelit lighting, the dark markings on the general’s hands and shirt looked like ink stains, but the stench of gore and blood that assaulted Francis upon passing made him rethink that assumption. A torture machine, that’s what Alexander had turned him into. General Beilschmidt had power, but he was not weak. He could be ruthless, the perfect soldier underneath an evil king. And yet, when he did not wear that collar, General Beilschmidt was a good alpha. Francis would never forget what the general had done, mere months ago, for Arthur, Prince Alfred’s personal guard, in order to save him from a life time of psychological and emotional damage. It was disgusting and horrific, but brave and selfless. It made Francis’s stomach churn just thinking about it. He remembered it, every last detail, down to the sorrow in Arthur’s eyes and the pain in Ludwig’s own as they held each other’s hands for dear life while others watched and sneered. A lump swelled in Francis’s throat as he remembered Prince Alfred’s cries to his father in the beginning of that maddening episode.

_“Let him go, don’t do this to him. Please, please. I will do anything, Father, just let him go!”_

Francis was relieved General Beilschmidt did not have a mate. He was not entirely certain a mate would be willing to forgive something like that. But it didn’t matter how good the general was without the collar on. He had it on now.

“The times of those generals have passed,” Francis murmured. “I am simply warning you, Catalina, but please do not disregard it so quickly. These shapeshifters are dangerous.”

Catalina shook her head as she stood up. “You have warned me, that is enough. I will take this into consideration, but do not speak of this to the others. You will only create a panic.” She took a deep breath. “Now, I am off to address the camp. I will tell them of the war tomorrow, it is too late for such heavy talk right now. As always, our home is your home, Captain.”

Without another word, Catalina disappeared from her hut. With a small smile, Francis clapped Antonio on the back. “I brought some wine from Camelot. What do you say, old friend? Care to drink with me?”

Despite the exhaustion that shone in his eyes, Antonio smiled back. “That’s exactly what I need right now.”

“It’s in Blythe’s saddlebag, let me go get it.” With departing smiles, Francis left the hut quietly. He kept to the edge of the camp, as to not disturb Catalina as she spoke with her gathered Fae. He made it to the post where the horses were kept, and stroked Blythe’s soft muzzle as she nickered softly. “I know, old girl. You’re hungry. I’ll have Antonio pour the drinks while I get you some food.”

“Hello, Captain.”

The voice startled Francis since he assumed all of the Fae were too busy listening to Catalina than to pay him any attention. He was met by the sight of Enzo when he turned around. The large Faerie was staring at him coolly. “Oh, good evening Enzo.” Francis smiled politely. “It seems my arrival woke everyone up, and for that, I must-”

“You said Avalonian shapeshifters are headed here?”

Francis lowered his chin in response to being interrupted. He did not like Enzo. Though he understood why Catalina made him a member of her council- he was the best hunter in the village and a very skilled fighter- he was much too arrogant and was prone to solve things through violence. Not to mention, the things he said to Little Feli made his skin crawl. He almost shivered when he remembered something from a few years back, as he spoke with Antonio and Lovino on one warm afternoon.

Enzo was with a couple of other alphas, and was sneering in the direction of Feliciano, who was, thankfully, too far away to hear his words. Francis, Antonio, and Lovino were not. The words were cruel and filled with so much arrogance, it chilled Francis to the bone. “He needs someone to make him Fae again.” Francis had never seen Antonio move so quickly, nor had he ever seen his friend react so violently. It took a number of alphas to separate the two on the ground, who tried to growl, and spit, and bite their way back to the other.

“Touch him,” Antonio had snarled. “And I will kill you.”

No. Francis was not a fan of Enzo.

“You were spying on us?” Francis asked instead. “That was a private conversation.”

Enzo growled. “Though Catalina likes to think Antonio and Lovino are the only two members, I am a part of her council as well. I deserve to know what is being talked about.” His lip curled. “Shapeshifters are the scum of the earth. Their kind was created centuries ago by predatory animals raping omegas, did you know that? They are vile, abhorrent creatures, and now they’ve got their sights set on us. _I_ believe you, even if Catalina doesn’t. How many are there? Who is leading them?”

The feud between the shapeshifters and Fae was tiresome to Francis. One would think the two species would join forces with a common enemy afoot, but that did not seem to be the case. Francis turned back around and stroked Blythe’s muzzle again. “According to the spies, there are eleven predatory shifters. They are being led by a dire wolf shifter named General Beilschmidt.”

There was a sharp, almost surprised, intake of breath. “What is Beilschmidt’s first name?”

Francis paused his brushing. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Just trying to see if it’s the one I’m familiar with, friend.”

A bit disturbed, Francis pivoted on his heel in order to look at Enzo. His dark eyes were bright in the moonlight, and his lips were parted, almost as if he were excited. “Ludwig?” Francis raised an eyebrow. “Ludwig Beilschmidt is the general’s full name. Does that help?”

“Ludwig Beilschmidt,” Enzo murmured. His eyes narrowed as a small grin appeared on his face. Once again, Francis felt disturbed. He glanced behind him. Nothing but the forest. He did not like being so far from the group of Fae with just this alpha. It made him incredibly uneasy. “Yes, that helps tremendously.”

Francis did not like his tone, but he truly had no idea what the name could mean to Enzo. Aside from Catalina and Antonio, Francis did not know the surname of any Fae in the Orlon Forest. It was a safety precaution. A shiver slid down Francis’s spine when Enzo’s grin faded into a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Catalina in the morning, don’t worry. Thank you, Captain, and goodnight.”

“Oh, sure?” Francis watched Enzo turn around and walk away, closer to the gathered Fae. He felt like he could breathe again. Strange. With a small shrug, Francis retrieved the wine from the saddlebag and patted Blythe’s side. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

With a final glance Enzo’s way, Francis walked back to the hut where Antonio was waiting.

.

That same night, in a forest dripping with frost and moonlight, the Wolf paced between two trees. His ten soldiers murmured excitedly around him as they spoke of the Fae they were sure to come across in due time. He resisted the urge to tell them to shut up, to not get too excited, to focus on the mission at hand, but it would be pointless.

_**Worthless, spineless cowards**_, the voice inside him hissed. _**They are not as strong as you, nor as reliable. They were only given to you by His Majesty because he wanted them out of his palace.**_

The Wolf figured as much. He paused in his pacing and stood directly in front of his assembled shifters. “Listen, soldiers.” The shifters immediately quieted and stood at the position of attention. “In just two nights, we will be in the Orlon Forest. Remember our objectives; grab the witch, find the _Fabula_, and trap as many Fae as you can. Am I clear?”

“Yes, General!”

_**Good, good, good**_, the voice purred. _**We’re gonna cut up the Fae, aren’t we? Drink the nectar from their bodies?**_

The Wolf almost smirked from the thought. Once, a lifetime ago, he tasted the blood of a Fae. The details were fuzzy, but he was almost certain it was the blood of that _gods damn siren who always spoke to him and it was pushing him to the point of insanity_

It is custom for alphas to bite the spot between the neck and shoulder of an omega during mating rituals; it must have been during that ritual that he sank his teeth into soft skin, and tasted the tantalizing golden blood. His mouth salivated at the memory. It was so sweet, so different, and so delicious. If the Fae truly were hiding in the Orlon Forest, there would be plenty for every shifter here.

“Then sleep for now,” the Wolf continued. “When the sun rises, we will take our leave.” 

There was another chorus of agreement before the shifters started to lay down. The Wolf settled away from the group after shifting into his beastly form in order to lay comfortably on the forest floor. As he closed his eyes, with thoughts of sweet nectar blood in his mind, the whisper of a man’s voice sounded from inside his mind.

_‘Snap out of it.’_

_**The shell of your weak and powerless self**_, the daemon growled. _**Do not listen to such a fool. Listen to me. Me me me, always. I am stronger, we are stronger. Remember. Remember the blood we have split, the bones we have cracked, and the bodies we have broken. Remember the ecstasy you were in. Do not remember the fool you once were.**_

The Wolf closed his eyes again. This happened after he accepted the collar. The weak mutt he was whenever the collar was off always tried to resurface, but it never worked. He was too weak, the daemon too strong. He preferred it this anyway. That didn’t make the mutt’s damn voice any less irritating.

_‘Remember Feliciano, remember Gilbert, remember your father, remember your name, remember, remember, remember…’_

_ **Remember the blood, remember the smell, remember the pleasure, remember the screams, remember, remember, remember…** _

.

After a dreamless sleep, Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano stood at the entrance of the camp in the Orlon Forest the next morning with bellies filled with a breakfast that consisted of berries and tomatoes, and fresh clothes on their bodice. Matthew was happy to be in his old clothes, now clean and devoid of the dirt they had accumulated throughout his travels. His satchel was strapped to his side, with the _Fabula_ tucked away with the salves Feliciano had prepared for him. He was ready for the quest.

Beside him, Gilbert stretched as the first of the sun’s rays made it into camp. “It feels like we’ve been here forever.”

“It does.” Matthew looked to the gathered Fae in front of them. Catalina, Antonio, Lovino, Govert, Manon, and Elias and Francis. Others were behind them, shuffling uncertainly. Matthew did not blame them, he did not even know their names. “But it is time we departed.”

“Back on the road!” Gilbert grinned. “I’ve missed that.”

Matthew tightened his grip on his staff as he remembered his realization. Loyalties. When Gilbert said things like that, when he grinned like that, it made the answer that much easier. But was it the right one? He did not know.

“I’ve missed it too,” he said softly.

Lovino wrapped his arms around Feliciano tightly, and kissed his brother’s head. “I’m tempted to chain you to a tree,” he grumbled. “This is dangerous, Feli. The last time I let you go off somewhere, you came back starved and pregnant.”

“I promise that won’t happen again.” Feliciano drew back and kissed Lovino’s cheeks lovingly. “I wish you were coming, Lovi! And you, Tonio! That would be fun, don’t you think?”

Antonio smiled as he joined the hug. “When this mess is over, we’ll have our own adventure, Feli. And when you find Ludwig, he can come along with us.”

Matthew smiled at the scene of the three Fae holding each other for dear life. A family in their own right. When they parted, Antonio unstrapped a bow and quiver from his shoulders and handed them to Feliciano. “Take these so you have a weapon. There’s no telling when you might need them.”

Feliciano took them, and kissed Antonio’s cheeks. “Thank you.” Then Feliciano knelt to the ground, and Elias shot forward. Feliciano laughed softly as he held his son. “You’re going to be good, right? Listen to every word Lovino and Antonio say to you. They’ll tell me if you were bad, though I don’t think it would be wise to disobey Lovi. You know that, too.”

Elias did not speak, he just pressed closer. Matthew glanced at Gilbert, then nudged him forward. He needed to say goodbye. Looking a little awkward, he walked over. Feliciano let go of Elias after kissing his head. His eyes were glossy. “_Ich liebe dich_, Elias.”

_“Ich liebe dich auch, Mamma.”_

Feliciano stood back up, and smiled brightly when he noticed Gilbert. Elias blinked at the alpha with uncertainty. Gilbert smiled. “See ya around, kid. Next time we meet, I’ll teach you how to fire my crossbow.”

Elias tilted his head. “And you’ll answer all of my questions about shapeshifters?”

Gilbert stuck out his pinkie. “I swear it.”

Elias hesitated, but eventually wrapped his finger around Gilbert’s. He took it away rather quickly and stepped back to Lovino and Antonio. He said nothing about his father, he did not say the words ‘goodbye’, he just stood there and stared as Feliciano and Gilbert moved beside Matthew again. Catalina raised her chin.

“May Mab and Oberon light your path,” she said. “Each of yours.”

Matthew bowed his head. “And yours.”

“Remember to go to Bannockburn before heading into Camelot,” Francis added with a smile. “We’ll be able to help you get into the palace.”

Conversation during breakfast had turned into a plan of action, where it was decided they would find Lancelot first on their way to Camelot, and then they would head into Bannockburn. Apparently, two Fae of the Orlon Forest were already there on resistance business: Antonio’s older brother João, and Govert and Manon’s younger brother Henri.

Matthew nodded. “We will.”

Surprisingly, Francis walked closer to the trio and before they could react, he pulled Matthew into a hug. Matthew just blinked. He was not sure whether or not to accept the hug from this strange beta. Quietly, Francis murmured, “It brings me great joy to see you well, Matthew.”

“Um, thanks?”

Francis stepped back and bowed his head. “We will meet again soon.”

As Francis shook hands with a confused Gilbert and embraced a very willing Feliciano, it clicked in Matthew’s head. Francis might have known Matthew when he lived in the palace. Adhan had found him when he was two weeks old, and Francis was clearly older than Matthew… He swallowed the sharp pain in his throat. If that were the case, how did Francis even recognize him? He did not know. Perhaps, when they meet again, he will ask.

Time seemed to slow as Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano said their final goodbyes and then walked out of the camp, heading deeper into the Orlon Forest. To Matthew, it had not seemed like two days. It seemed more like months. So much happened, so much will continue to happen throughout their quest, but for now, he has answers and even more unanswered questions. He just hoped they could be answered in time.

“Well, whaddya think?” Gilbert asked with a small nudge Matthew’s way.

“What do I think about what?” Matthew asked, taken from his thoughts.

Gilbert pouted. “Someone hugged you and I didn’t freak out! That’s progress, and I’m waiting for you to acknowledge it!”

For a moment, he just stared at the alpha with wide, unblinking eyes. Then they narrowed. “I shouldn’t have to praise you for common decency.”

Feliciano let out a soft “oh,” followed by a quiet laugh. Gilbert did not seem to find it as amusing. He crossed his arms over his jacket and strengthened his pout. “Are we really back to this attitude again?”

“Hush. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“That’s… You’re so mean. Feli- don’t laugh at him!”

It was so easy with Gilbert, to laugh and tease and forget about their duties as they walked through the Orlon Forest. Even Feliciano seemed to be easing his way out of the funk he was in earlier, though Matthew could not blame him. Learning your mate was alive, along with the other revelations of being a part of some ancient prophecy, would be a lot for anyone. But as they left the Orlon Forest behind them and headed into the small patch of woodland Matthew and Gilbert had resided in the night before they parted ways, the little Faerie was laughing along with Gilbert with cheeks reddened by the cold and eyes bright with joy. Feliciano was dressed like he usually was, with a red tunic, brown tights, and a brown cloak and gloves, but this time there was a black ribbon around his head. It went beneath his hair, and covered the pointed tips of his ears. To hide his Fae qualities. Matthew hadn’t even thought of the peril Feliciano could find himself in if he were found by a soldier or guard of Avalon. He and Gilbert would be in danger for simply being with a Fae.

But they would make sure each other was okay, no matter who was on their tail. In some way, they were like a pack, or a coven now. Matthew’s face flamed a little at the thought. What kinds of silly things were entering his mind? They were not a pack. Packs were found families, filled with members who would fight to the death for each other. Matthew glanced at Gilbert and Feliciano as they spoke happily to one another. They had been a pack with Ludwig, and now they were on their way to reform their pack. Matthew was not a part of it, he knew that. And he was okay with it. But Gilbert still shot him a smile and said,

“Birdie, listen to this story! Tell him, Feli!”

“Okay, okay. So when Lovino and I were younger…”

As they laughed and spoke like old friends, Matthew kept reminding himself they were not a pack, because if they were it meant Matthew would always have to put them above the prophecy and the future of Esmya. And he was not entirely certain he could do that.

The trio found Kuma where Matthew left him, and his familiar eagerly nuzzled him in a reunion. Feliciano had paled at the sight of such a large white bear, but it didn’t take long to get him to trust the bear and happily pet him. With Kuma a part of their ranks, Matthew took his map of Avalon out of his satchel and pointed to the spot they were in. The walk to Bannockburn should take about two or so weeks on foot if the weather proved favorable. They would pass through two small towns on their way there, the rest they would be able to bypass all together. And so, Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano, with Kuma at their side, continued on their way through the dense forests of Avalon.

…

“Damn, I miss that bed!” Gilbert groaned as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “My back is gonna kill me from sleeping on the ground.”

“We should just be thankful it isn’t raining or snowing,” Matthew pointed out as he rubbed his hands over the small fire crackling in front of him. “I didn’t think you were so old that your back aches from a few nights without a bed.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “You can’t make fun of my age anymore. Feli is almost as old as me, so you’re making fun of him by default!”

Feliciano smiled a bit as he huddled deep into his cloak. “I think it’s cool Matthew thinks I’m old! I’m one of the youngest Fae in the Orlon Forest, so having someone around me that’s _so_ much younger is neat!”

Matthew chuckled softly. “Checkmate, Gil.”

Behind him, Kuma yawned. The three had traveled all day, taking a turn that led them off of the path Matthew and Gilbert had used to get to the Orlon Forest. The forest they were currently in was no longer as dense, with the trees and brambles further apart. Because of that, it was much colder now, but they had a fire, a dire bear, and each other to keep warm. With a small meal consumed, and a blanket and cloaks over their shoulders, the three pressed themselves to Kuma as they watched the fire crackle and burn into the night.

“I’m sorry to bring this up right before we head to bed,” Feliciano murmured softly. He wrung his hands together as the fire glowed against his face, illuminating him. “But you two say the Green Knight said Ludwig was on the path that cuts through Avalon. What does that mean, exactly? There are a lot of paths that cut through Avalon, and just because he was there when you spoke to the Green Knight doesn’t mean he will be there later.”

It was a fair and good question. Matthew smiled softly to keep Feliciano from possibly panicking. “That’s the most frustrating thing about omens and prophecies, most of the time they aren’t meant to be taken literally. The Green Knight also said King Arthur is in the heart of Camelot, which could have a lot of meanings! I think he meant he’s in the palace.” Feliciano’s eyes widened, and the tension inside Matthew eased at the slight hope in the Fae’s eyes. “When he said Ludwig is on a path that cuts through Avalon, it probably doesn’t mean one specific path.”

“You know what I think?” Gilbert chimed in from Matthew’s other side. “I think that green bastard was referring to _us_, that we’re the path that’s cutting through Avalon. Maybe Ludwig will find his way to us.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. Feliciano wore a similar expression as he peeked around Matthew’s shoulder to blink at the alpha. Gilbert snorted. “What? I’m getting the hang of these fucking crazy omens. I can decipher them, too!”

A chuckle left Matthew, and he resisted the urge to pat Gilbert on the back. “You certainly have my approval.”

Feliciano smiled for a moment, but it vanished quickly and he looked back into the fire. “I wish I had that ability, Gil. The night before Yule, I had this awful nightmare and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it meant.” Matthew stilled. The night before Yule… that was the night he had his own nightmare. “Of course, it probably didn’t mean anything, but I don’t even know what I could have been thinking of to have such a dream!”

“What was it?” Matthew asked.

“Well, I was somewhere, but I don’t know where because I was surrounded by darkness. I couldn’t see anything. I heard this thing that sounded like chains rattling around, so I followed the noise and when I stopped walking, there was a man in front of me. He had black hair and blue eyes, and I’ve never seen anyone like that before, but I felt like I knew him.” Feliciano faltered. “I felt like I had known him for years. I reached up to touch him, but then he disappeared and a daemon was holding my wrist.” He shivered. “It terrified me.”

A man with black hair and blue eyes, with chains that rattled, and who Feliciano thought he had known for years. He thought of his vision during Yule, when Lancelot tried to step out of the fire. Did Feliciano have a _vision_ of Lancelot? It would make sense, if Lancelot really were Ludwig, but Feliciano was not a prophet…

“Hey, I had a nightmare too!” Gilbert exclaimed. “I saw the Green Knight, and I beheaded him, but when his head hit the ground, the one under the helmet was me. There were snakes and spiders coming out of nose and mouth, and-” He broke off and shivered violently. “It was gross.”

Matthew started. “You had a vision of the Green Knight before you actually saw him?”

Gilbert nodded. “I just chocked it up to my brain unconsciously thinking of the last passage we had read in the _Fabula_ that day.” He looked uncertain as he stared into the fire. “But now I don’t know.”

_That_had most definitely been a prophetic dream, but once again, Gilbert was not a seer. He and Feliciano were having strange dreams because… because they were Gawain and Elain? He narrowed his eyes. “I, too, had a dream. I was in the mountains, in front of this huge cave with smog coming from it. The Fae from my vision nine years ago was there, too, and he told me to beware the mountains, the dragon slumbers.” It was his turn to shiver. “Then a dragon came from the cave and burned us.”

It would have been a lot more comforting if the forest wasn’t filled with such a deathly quiet. Feliciano leaned closer into Matthew, and Matthew leaned closer to Gilbert. “Why did we all have nightmares the night before Yule?” Feliciano asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Matthew replied honestly. “But it must have something to do with who we are; Merlin, Gawain, and Elain.”

A beat of silence passed. “What does it mean to ‘be Elain’?” Feliciano’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Before you opened the _Fabula_, you said, “_Elain the Faerie, Wayward Faerie, and guardian of peace_.” What does that mean? What do I have to do, aside from find the Faerie Queen?”

Matthew closed his eyes. “I wish I knew, Feli.”

“You have to follow Merlin,” Gilbert pointed out. “That’s what Elain said to you, right? You’re doing that now, so you must be doing something right!”

Feliciano’s smile did not reach his eyes. “I don’t know if I am.” Then it fell altogether as he chuckled awkwardly. “I never expected any of this to happen to me. It’s all so weird. Just a few days ago, I was thinking about what kinds of herbs needed to be planted, and now I’m on a quest to find my mate and two mythical rulers.”

Gilbert laughed. “Weird is a fucking understatement.”

“I’m sorry to drag you two into it,” Matthew murmured softly, because he was. He had gotten Gilbert’s shack burned to the ground, and now he was leading Feliciano away from his son. They could get hurt, or worse, and it would be Matthew’s fault.

“Matthew.” Feliciano’s gloved hand rested on top of Matthew’s, and he laced their fingers together. He blinked in surprise, but Feliciano’s smile was genuine this time. It glowed in his eyes, just like the fire. “I said it was weird, but I never said it was bad. Without you, I never would have been reunited with Gilbert and I never, ever, not in a million years, would have left to look for my mate, because I would still be sitting in the camp as I mourned him.” His eyes glistened with tears that seemed to spill so easily. “Never apologize for this. You have no reason to.”

Gilbert nudged Matthew’s arm, and grinned brightly. “He’s saying the exact same thing I was, Birdie. You haven’t done anything wrong, so quit acting like you have! After all, neither one of us are here against our will. Remember that.”

Touched beyond belief, Matthew was not entirely sure what to say, he was not sure what to do as Feliciano squeezed his hand and Gilbert grinned at him, so he closed his eyes and smiled softly. “I-I’m sorry. I will try to remember that.”

“Glad we’re finally on the same page!” Gilbert cheered.

“Yes…” Matthew murmured softly. As the three quieted down in preparation to sleep, guilt unlike any other squirmed inside of Matthew. Would Gilbert and Feliciano be so quick to console him if they knew he was the son of the very man who was the cause for their grief and trauma? He looked to the stars as Feliciano pressed his temple against the side of Matthew’s arm, and as soft snores came from Gilbert.

No. He was certain they would not.

.

Something woke Gilbert, but he was not entirely certain as to what it was. He was also not entirely certain as to what it was he was laying on. Groggily, he lifted his head from Matthew’s shoulder. It took his sleepy brain a moment to register that. He wiped the drool from his lips and forced down the weird twist in his stomach. So he accidentally shifted during the night and used Matthew’s stupidly broad shoulder as a pillow? Big deal! By the looks of it Feliciano was using Matthew’s entire left side as a pillow! He didn’t need to get-

_Crack._

The fluffy feeling in Gilbert’s stomach vanished from the sound. On alert, he brushed his piece of the blanket from his shoulders and stood up. Kuma was awake, too, but made no move to get up with Matthew and Feliciano still pressed into his side. However, he was looking into the forest. Gilbert narrowed his eyes. Something was out there.

“If you hear me shout,” Gilbert said to Kuma. “Hurry up and save me.” With his bow and quivers, and one final glance at a sleeping Matthew and Feliciano, Gilbert hurried away.

Overnight, a frost descended over the forest. The early morning sunlight made it glisten and sparkle, causing a sort of fictitious glow within the forest. Though if the dark clouds appearing overhead were anything to go by, it would not look like that for much longer. He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the area. He stopped and strained to listen for any other noises. A few birds were making a small ruckus in the trees. Gilbert straightened. If the birds were singing, there couldn’t be anything _unnatural_ in the forest, like that Shadow Soldier during the snowstorm. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t something malicious.

_Crunch. Crunch._ Footsteps on leaves, like someone was running. Two feet, not four. Unlikely to be an animal. He took out an arrow and snapped it into place. The crunching was getting louder. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the area it was coming from. Just in case. It was highly unlikely someone was running through the forest this early in the morning was, well, normal. Either way, Gilbert couldn’t be too careful, not with Feliciano and Matthew back there.

There was rustling, more crunching, and then someone exploded from behind a fallen log. Gilbert almost dropped his crossbow in surprise. “_Elias_?”

Elias’s hair was filled with dead leaves and twigs, and there was some dirt smudged against his cheek. His chest was heaving and his eyes were wild with panic as he raced for Gilbert.

“Gilbert, you have to hide me! He’s going to get me!” Elias shouted desperately. “He’s going to kill me!”

Now Gilbert was panicking. “Gods, kid, is there someone following you?” He raised the crossbow again. Had something happened to the Orlon Forest? Was there an attacker on Elias’s tail? “Get behind me, quick!” Elias did as he was told, trembling like a little leaf. Whoever was behind him must be fierce.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, waiting for the attacker to show themselves. First, he heard the thundering of hooves, followed quickly by a string of curses. Wait… A dappled horse leapt over the fallen log, with a newly familiar rider on its back. Lovino’s eyes were wild with rage as he pulled the roped reins in a halt. Immediately, Gilbert lowered his bow. Ohh. He understood.

“_Elias_,” Lovino hissed. “Get. Over. Here. _Now_.” 

Elias didn’t budge from behind Gilbert’s leg, so Gilbert stepped aside. He was getting a very odd sense of déjà vu. The last time the three of them were alone, Lovino had sprained his arm. It still kind of ached. But Elias dashed back behind Gilbert’s leg. His movements allowed Gilbert to see the bag hanging from Elias’s back, and then it clicked. Elias had run away willingly, and Lovino had chased after him.

“I don’t want to go with you!” Elias exclaimed as he pressed his face into Gilbert’s hip. “I’m going to find my mom! And I’m going to stay with Gilbert, cause he’s like me!”

“You won’t be like him in a few minutes,” Lovino snarled as he dismounted the sweating horse. “Because Gilbert will be _alive_.”

Gilbert had heard of Lovino’s infamous temper from Feliciano and Antonio, but it truly was something that needed to be seen firsthand. His face was so red, Gilbert was surprised smoke wasn’t coming from his ears. He stalked forward with the precision and grace of a predator, with his hazel eyes trained on his prey. Anger rolled off of him like waves, along with worry and fear. He must not have known where Elias had been.

“Whoa, okay. Let’s back up here.” Gilbert raised his hands in an attempt to get some form of calm to fall over the other two. “Elias, what are you doing out here? Did you follow us?”

With his eyes on Lovino, Elias nodded. “I told you I’m really good at sneaking out,” he said quietly. “I wanted to… to talk to my mom.”

Lovino looked like he was ready to pull his hair out. “You foolish boy! You could have been killed! If I hadn’t caught on to your trail, you could have... Oh, Elias!” He turned to Gilbert, absolutely livid. “Is it a shapeshifter thing? To constantly disobey the rules and sneak out of camps? Is it?!”

Gilbert wanted to reassure Lovino that it wasn’t, but Elias didn’t seem to like the words coming from his aunt. With his hands still wrapped around Gilbert’s thigh, Elias shouted, “Why does it always have to be a ‘shapeshifter thing’ when I do something wrong? Why can’t it just be a ‘kid thing’ or something? Why do I always have to be labeled as some kind of bad guy just because my dad was a shifter?”

Lovino snarled. “Don’t you dare start on with that. You _know_ I don’t think of you like-” 

“I don’t want to be in that camp without my mom!” Elias’s voice tightened, like he was very close to crying. His words came louder and louder, and his hold on Gilbert’s leg grew stronger. Even so, he felt the strongest urge to hold this poor boy and promise him protection. “I don’t want to be surrounded by people who hate me! I don’t want to be a shapeshifter! And _I don’t want Mom to find my dad!_”

At this point, Elias was crying. Gilbert knelt to the ground and drew the boy into his arms. “Hey, kid. Shh, it’s okay. You’re not in any kind of danger, so why are you crying so much?” Elias wrapped his arms around Gilbert’s neck, and hiccupped into his chest as he cried. Gilbert stroked the back of his head in an attempt to calm him, but he was not sure if it was working.

Lovino shook his head. In a voice heavy with exhaustion, he muttered, “Oh, Elias.”

Elias continued shaking and crying, no matter how strong Gilbert’s efforts to get him to stop were. The kid just wasn’t going to. With a grunt, he stood back up with Elias in his arms. His arms shook with the effort of holding this nine year-old boy, but he could manage. “Let’s take him to Feli. Oh, and for the record.” Gilbert glared at Lovino. “Things like this aren’t a ‘shapeshifter thing’. It’s the kind of thing that happens to an alpha boy after he’s lived without a father in an environment that wishes him gone.”

Lovino glared something fierce. “Don’t you dare speak to me as if I’m the villain here.”

Gilbert refused to reply. The trek to Matthew and Feliciano was filled with Elias’s quiet cries, and the soft neighs of Lovino’s horse. When they made it back, Matthew and Feliciano seemed to just be waking. Matthew’s eyes widened when he saw who was with Gilbert. When Feliciano looked at them, he stood up immediately. Gilbert let Elias down.

“What…? What are you two..?” Feliciano shook his head as he knelt to the ground, and let Elias run to his chest. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked from Gilbert to Lovino. “What happened?”

Gilbert shrugged, but Lovino growled, “Elias snuck out after yesterday’s dinner, and I’ve been hunting him all night, so excuse me,” he hissed, with a small glare Gilbert’s way. “If I am in a foul mood.”

“You were out all night?” Feliciano’s voice rose as he looked down at Elias. Gilbert decided to take this opportunity to slink closer to Matthew. He helped the beta up and handed him his staff, but they both stayed quiet. This was not their place. “Elias, oh, Elias. What were you thinking?”

Elias sniffled. “I just wanted to tell you-” He broke off to hiccup.

Feliciano stroked the back of his head as he picked leaves and twigs from his golden hair. “Tell me what? Elias, nothing could be important enough that you would need to disobey Lovino and run through the forests at night.”

“I don’t want you to find Dad!” Elias exclaimed as he ripped himself from Feliciano’s grasp. Gilbert almost flinched. “If he’s alive, then where was he? Why didn’t he come back to you? Why did he leave us in a place that doesn’t want us? He can’t be a good alpha, not like you say, because a good alpha wouldn’t leave his family in such a bad place!”

The words were so innocent, they tore into Gilbert’s chest. Soft, hesitant fingers knocked against his, and he took them gratefully. He allowed Matthew to squeeze his fingers, to give him some kind of silent strength, because he needed it. Even Lovino leaned against his horse’s shoulder with a somber expression, his anger no more.

Elias shook his head. “I’m tired of hearing everyone call you mean names. They scare me. I think they’re going to do bad things to you, _Mamma_, and I can’t protect you. And I… I… I’m scared Dad will be mean to you, too. And Lovino and Antonio won’t be there for you, and I can’t- I don’t…”

Elias looked like he was going to start crying again, with his shaking shoulders and lowered head. Even so, Feliciano smiled softly and reassuringly, and continued to pick the debris from his hair. “Oh, listen to yourself, silly boy. Don’t say you need to protect me. You are only nine years-old, _I’m_ the one who protects _you_. When have I ever said it was your duty to protect me or take care of me?”

“You… you said I protected you from that mountain lion,” Elias mumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

“And you did.” Feliciano tilted his head to the side. “But not in the way you’re thinking of. It was your being, the future of you and I, and your unlived life that kept me fighting. Now it is your smile, and laughter, your stubbornness and sarcasm, and your kindness and shyness that keep me going. They protect me from so many things, like nightmares and unwanted memories.” He pressed his forehead to Elias’s. “But I would never ask you to protect me from other people, nor would I ever ask you to take care of me, because that is not a child’s job. It is a mother’s job to provide for their child, not the other way around. Not even an alpha child should take care of their mother.”

Elias sniffled. “But everyone is so mean to you.”

“And I ignore them,” Feliciano murmured. “Their words do not hurt me, sweet boy. It only hurts me when they spit on your father’s name, or when they direct their words to you. But I can fight for the both of you, you’ve seen me do it.” He sighed softly and drew away. With gentle hands, he wiped the rest of the tears from Elias’s face. “Now, your father. Listen to me carefully, Elias. I do not care if Ludwig no longer loves me. He can turn me away, he can push me aside, or he can walk to me with another omega on his arm.”

Gilbert wanted to laugh. Ludwig would kiss the ground Feliciano walked on before doing any of those things. He would always love Feliciano, no matter how much time has passed.

“No matter if he stops loving me, he will always love _you_.” Feliciano smiled as he said it. “If I had the chance to tell him he was going to be a father, he would have cried. If he had the chance to hold you as babe, he would have wept. He would have said, “I’m the luckiest alpha in the entire world”, and he would have refused to put you down. He would have been at your beck and call. And as you grew, he would have been right beside you, teaching you everything he could about shapeshifters, and wolves, and alphas. I know he would have.”

Gilbert wondered if Feliciano were thinking about it, too, of a huge black dire wolf racing beside a smaller black pup, with eyes of ice shining with the kind of love and pride only a father could have for his child. He squeezed Matthew’s hand.

“How do you know?” Elias asked.

Feliciano rubbed his nose against Elias’s. “When you love someone for long enough, you start figuring out ways they’ll react about certain situations. Like, I know if I tickle you, you’ll squeal and try to run away.” Without any sort of warning, Feliciano ran his fingers against Elias’s sides, and the boy laughed weakly as he tried to push his mother’s hands away. Feliciano smiled brightly and dropped them. “See? I knew how you would react.”

Elias’s quiet laugher died down. He looked at the ground, and gently kicked the dirt. “You love Dad a lot.”

Something painful crossed over Feliciano’s face. “There are only two people I know I would die for, _mein Kleiner_. You and your father.”

Elias bowed his head in way that reminded Gilbert of acceptance. Hope flared in his chest, and he resisted the urge to actually lean forward. ‘_It’s okay, Elias. It’s okay to accept him.’_

“Can I… Can I be there when you find him?” Elias asked softly. “Because I want to meet him. Please?”

Feliciano’s eyebrows drew together. He paused, contemplating. Then he looked at Lovino, and then at Gilbert and Matthew. “This quest could be dangerous,” he murmured. “I don’t know if this is a place for you, Elias.”

Once again, Elias bowed his head. He did not fight, he did not scream, and he did not beg. He just murmured, “Okay. I understand.”

Feliciano bit his lip. Gilbert could see him thinking. If Elias left, there was a very good chance he would find them again, especially with his shapeshifter senses. He could easily track them down and possibly follow from a distance. That would be far more dangerous than anything that could happen during their journey. Gilbert glanced at the grim expression on Lovino’s face. He was probably thinking the same thing.

“If you come with us,” Feliciano started. “You will not complain about the cold. You will not complain about sleeping on the ground, or going hungry for the night, or that your feet hurt. You _will_ listen to Matthew, Gilbert, and me, and if- when we find your father, I swear to the goddess herself, Elias, if you are cruel to him, I will drag you back to the Orlon Forest and make sure you do every chore by yourself for nine years straight, is that understood?”

Elias’s eyes widened and he quickly nodded. “Yes, _Mamma_!”

Feliciano stuck out his pinkie finger, and Elias eagerly took it. They shook once, and Feliciano pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Now go apologize to your aunt. And when we come back, tell him you’re going to help him for one whole month with whatever he needs since he chased you for an entire night. Is that clear?”

Elias bolted away to apologize to Lovino. During that time, Feliciano stood up and walked over to Gilbert and Matthew. Immediately, he gasped. “Oh, Matthew! I’m sorry! This is your quest; I can tell him to go with Lovino, it’s no big deal!”

But Matthew smiled and shook his head. “If you think this will be okay, Feli, I’m fine with it. Besides, having another child around might brighten things up.”

“Another?” Gilbert asked. “I didn’t know you were pregnant again, Birdie.”

Matthew’s smile was acidic. “I was referring to you, Gil.”

Feliciano’s laughter was like bluebells chiming in the springtime. He wiped a tear from his eye, and smiled. “You two are so funny, it’s sweet!” He glanced at their hands, which were quickly separated, and turned around with something that sounded suspiciously like, “Everyone has their own love language.” Gilbert couldn’t be too sure though.

In no time, Lovino and Feliciano were embracing. “I’m serious, Feli. I want to drag you back home. This could be so dangerous, and you’re with an alpha and beta I find very strange.” Lovino shook his head. “What if your heat starts during the time you’re with them? What if-”

“You know, we can hear you,” Gilbert exclaimed. “We won’t let anything happen to Feli, I swear on my life.”

Feliciano tilted his head as he smiled. “You worry too much, Lovi. Gilbert and Matthew wouldn’t hurt me. And you know I make poultices to shorten my heats; they only last for two days now, _and_ they only happen during the spring time. You’re just trying to make excuses!”

Lovino shook his head. “Can you blame me?”

Feliciano brought his brother into another hug. “I’m going to be fine, Lovi. You’ll see. And when I come back, you can meet Ludwig! I think you’ll really like him!”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Lovino and Feliciano stepped away from each other, after Lovino kissed Feliciano’s cheeks. “Just be careful, Feli. Please.” Then he swooped down to hug Elias. “And you too, boy. You best behave for your mother. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, it won’t be pretty.”

“I know, Lovino. I’m sorry.” Elias sounded very genuine.

“Hm. Good.” Lovino nodded to Matthew and Gilbert. “Keep an eye on the both of them.” He mounted his horse, and after a few more goodbyes from Feliciano, he was off.

Since his bow and quiver were already in his grasp, Gilbert said, “Hey, kid. Wanna come with me to do some hunting? You gotta be starving.”

Elias smiled. “Okay!” He rushed forward, but then paused and looked at Feliciano. “Can I go with him?”

“If you promise to behave yourself.”

“I will!” Elias eagerly dashed to Gilbert’s side.

Gilbert grinned and ruffled the top of the boy’s head, and then guided him away from the group. “Might as well make this educational. When you’re hunting, there are certain things you need to be on the lookout for…”

.

_Unnamed forest outside the Orlon Forest; Later that night_

The world was silent as Francis yawned to himself atop his white mare. Oh, how he longed for a bed to rest his aching bones. Riding a horse for an entire week straight with hardly any breaks only to get back in the saddle after only two days of rest did not feel good on his back. But he had done his duty. He told Catalina everything, and they devised a small plan for the retaking of Bannockburn. The letters from Queen Ayiana were also in her possession. All was well.

Francis’s expression turned grim as he blinked wearily at the sky. There were mythical figures based on Arthurian myth, the very foundation of Avalon, and those figures were real. Antonio explained it to him as they drank the sweet wine from Camelot. Francis had been grateful to drink something as he listened to the explanation.

Queen Ayiana had said things about it before, briefly, how there was a Once and Future King that must be found, along with his court. When Francis asked her why they didn’t look for this king and his court, she shook her head and said, “It is not our destiny.” The destiny belonged to Matthew, apparently.

Francis shivered, and he truly doubted it was caused by the cold weather. Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano were on a quest to find a king that would challenge Alexander’s right to rule. It was almost insane. He chuckled softly to himself, and shook his head. He was almost tempted to look for the motley crew and ask to join them, but he couldn’t. He needed to get back to Camelot immediately and inform his queen of this sudden development. His urgency was why he could not stay in the Orlon Forest any longer, though he wished he could, at least until Lovino came back with news of Elias. He hoped the poor boy was okay.

Blythe halted. Her ears twitched back and forth, like she was listening for something. Francis gently patted her neck. “Blythe? What is it?”

His horse whinnied softly, and started backing up. He pulled her reins in an attempt to get her to halt. They were on a small rise in this forest outside of Orlon; if she slipped, they would tumble down the ravine. “Easy, girl. It’s okay! No need to get so spooked.”

Something bright caught Francis’s eye. He stopped talking and looked below the rise Blythe stood on, only to see a group of huge animals and humans, the humans holding torches in their grasps. Every animal was a predator, ranging from a bear to a lynx. The humans were dressed in familiar black uniforms; if Francis were closer, he would most definitely see the black outline of a lion on their chests. There were eleven in total, and they were being led by a massive black dire wolf with a collar around his neck.

Allistor’s spies were right.

A group of Alexander’s shapeshifters were headed right for the Orlon Forest, where the Fae were hiding. At best, they would be killed. At worst… they would be dragged back to Camelot in chains.

With horror in his stomach, Francis waited until the shapeshifters had disappeared into the brush of the Orlon Forest. He wanted nothing more than to charge after them, but if he did that he would be caught, and this whole operation would be blown to smithereens. He closed his eyes, counted to twenty, and then pressed his heels into Blythe’s sides.

“Back to the Orlon Forest, Blythe!” he shouted. “Hurry!”

_The Orlon Forest_

Weary and exhausted, Lovino walked back into camp on foot with the reins of his horse in his hand. All he wanted was to lay down beside his mate, and have Antonio kiss him, and hold him, and tell him everything would be okay. By the fucking gods, he was so damn tired.

“Lovino!” At the sound of his name, he looked up to find his mate rushing forward. He let himself be pulled into a warm hug. “Where’s Elias? Did you find him?”

“Don’t worry, I found him. He’s with Feli.” At Antonio’s look of surprise, Lovino chuckled humorlessly. “Feli’s letting him stay, and I don’t blame him. The little bastard would probably run away again as soon as he could if he were forced back here.”

After a brief pause, Antonio hummed quietly. “It was for the best then.”

“Mm. Tell that to my fucking bones.”

Antonio laughed, and the sound was like the sweetest of songs to Lovino. He allowed himself to be kissed, he let himself fall into it, become consumed by it and everything that was Antonio. They parted, and stood there, with a neighing horse behind Lovino and a slumbering camp around them.

“Has Francis left already?” he asked.

“Yep.” Antonio took the reins from Lovino. They made their way to the post where the other two horses rested. “He said he wanted to stay until Elias was found, but there are just too many things he has to do.”

Lovino grunted. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah.” Antonio tied the reins to the post, and started undoing the straps of the saddle. Lovino watched him lazily. He wanted to tell him they could take care of the horse tomorrow morning, but he knew Antonio would insist they do it now. “What do you think? About everything that’s happened with that prophecy?”

“You mean with Matthew and his little quest?” Antonio nodded in confirmation. Lovino scoffed. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to believe? It’s too... impossible. Have you seen the boy? He can’t be older than eighteen, he has a terrible limp, and barely any sort of backbone. Who the hell is going to listen to him?”

Antonio peered at him across the horse’s back as he started brushing it. “Well, we listened to him. Manon, Govert, my mother-”

Lovino groaned, and slumped to the ground against one of the legs of the post. “Okay, smartass. I get it.” He rolled his eyes from Antonio’s lilting giggles, and tried to bite back his own grin. It faded as he started talking again. “You know what I mean. Why should anyone listen to him? Why should anyone listen to Feli or Gilbert? I just can’t see this ending well.”

Antonio did not immediately reply. Lovino took the time to look around the camp, the only home he has ever known. The scattered huts made from animal skins and furs, the two cottages, and the little areas for cooking dinners. Aside from a few voices drifting from huts, it was quiet. Peaceful. No one would have ever dreamed three people just left to find some new king of Avalon, that another left as a messenger for a rebellion while betraying his king. A hand rested on top of his head. The warmth that spread through him was unnatural, but it was so comforting. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep with such warmth.

But he didn’t. He looked up instead, where Antonio was smiling down at him with his hand in his messy hair. At Lovino’s gaze, he dropped his hand and sat beside him with their shoulders pressed together. “I think we should give them a chance,” Antonio said. “Gilbert seems to be a really interesting guy! He can be, well, kind of rude and rash, but I think he only acts that way because he cares too much. Reminds me of someone.”

“Hm. I wonder who.”

“Yeah.” Antonio smiled brilliantly. “I didn’t get to talk to Matthew at all, but he must be strong if he’s come all this way. Maybe there’s a quiet strength to him, like he’s the calming water to Gilbert’s raging fire.”

Lovino let himself laugh. He was much too tired to care right now. “How very poetic.”

“You know my artistic side comes out in the late hours of the night!” Antonio laughed softly. When it died, Lovino rested his temple against Antonio’s shoulder, and shuddered as the heat of the Sun Fae flowed through him. “I think we should give them a chance, and hold out hope. They made it this far, didn’t they?”

“I suppose they did.” He snuggled closer into Antonio. Perhaps his mate was right. He hoped he was, because if there was even the slightest chance of replacing that good for nothing, bastard King Alexander, Lovino would take it. So they could stop living in fear, maybe go home to Raetia, and maybe, just maybe, he and Antonio could start a family. He pushed that intrusive thought from his mind. It was no use, thinking about something so far away in the future. Even if it made his heart ache, even if he could hear Feliciano telling him, “Make it something you fight for!”, it was too scary.

There was a loud thumping coming from the forest, a rhythmic pounding. A group of people were running. Lovino raised his head in slight alarm, as did Antonio. Immediately, they scrambled to their feet. The noise was getting louder, the smell of smoke was in the air, and the horses behind them were beginning to shift in discomfort.

Lovino whirled to Antonio. “We need to wake the others!”

One of the trees in the center of camp burst into flame before he could finish the sentence.

…

The Wolf strode through the burning camp with mesh covering his mouth to keep the smoke from choking him. Around him, the make-shift Fae village fell into absolute chaos. Some of the huts were burning, and many of the trees surrounding the camp itself were completely consumed by flame from the torches they had carried with them. Children were screaming, omegas were weeping, a few alphas tried to fight his soldiers, but it was futile. They were easily stopped. He still couldn’t believe it. The Fae were actually here, in this camp, right underneath King Alexander’s nose. It was almost too good to be true.

In no time, every Fae was lined up. Some still cried, others just stared at the soldiers in shock, while a select few were still snarling and struggling. The Wolf, along with his soldiers, stood in front of the fifty or so Fae.

“Who is the leader?” called the Wolf.

At first, it looked like a female was going to step forward, but a tall, tan skinned male skidded in front of her. His eyes were as green as the emeralds on King Alexander’s sword. One of the soldiers walked forward and grabbed the male by the back, and quickly chained his wrists together. A smaller male at his side gasped.

“Let him go!” He lunged, but another soldier was quickly at his back, and pinned him to the ground, all the while the Fae snarled and spat. “Get off, you bastard!”

The green eyed Fae struggled now, letting the Wolf believe the smaller male was someone close to him. A mate, perhaps. He stepped forward, easily towering over this skinny male. “We are looking for a witch, and a book known as the _Fabula_. We have reason to believe you are hiding both. Tell us where, and your punishment will not be as harsh.”

The male, alpha by his scent, struggled once more, but his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. It was enough to tell the Wolf this male knew of at least one of the things he had listed. But he did not answer the question, he just gritted his teeth. “_Muérdeme_.”

“I don’t speak the language of savages,” the Wolf growled. “Speak in the common tongue, or his arm is snapped.”

The Fae on the ground gasped in pain, and the male flinched. For a long moment, the green eyed male and the Wolf glared at one another without speaking, as the world burned around them. It did not matter how much defiance this Fae held, he would be taken away in chains regardless. His words were filled with hatred as he spat, “I said, bite me.”

The Wolf may have admired this Fae’s spirit at another time, but right now it just angered him. He slammed his fist into the Fae’s stomach, and was met with a very loud groan. He punched him once more, before he snapped his fingers and the soldier behind him released him, allowing the Fae to drop to his knees. The Fae on the ground cried out like he was in physical pain.

“_Antonio_!”

“Klaus, Karl, round them up and chain the largest ones,” the Wolf ordered. “Robert and Achim, take care of the rest. Stefan, Heinrich, and Fynn, search the huts to the right. Gunther, Reiner take the ones to the left. Rolf, you and I are going to search the small houses. Find anything valuable! And keep your eyes peeled for a book entitled the _Fabula_!”

“Yes, General!”

As the Wolf headed to one of the houses, the Faerie on the ground snarled with rage. “You won’t get away with this!” His empty threat was left ignored. It would never be answered.

When they made it to the house, the lieutenant opened the door for the Wolf, and he walked inside.

_“What do you think about this piece? I tried something different with the greens and blues, and I think it looks pretty good, but I want another opinion before trying to sell it at the market-”_

_ **Stop. Thinking. Of. That. Gods. Damned. Whore. We have been over this, time and time again.** _

Through the smoke, there was another scent wafting inside this small house. Lavender, and yarrow, and thyme and dandelion. There was moss, and pine, and leaves, such a distinction that it was obvious two had lived here instead of one. And while it was not as strong as the other two, the scent of iron, leather, and maples was there too. They weren’t familiar, but the lavender… Why was it so familiar? And why was he thinking of that voice? He never thought of it after accepting this… this- what had he accepted? No, he accepted the daemon. Right.

“General?” Rolf asked at his side after closing the door.

“Search,” the Wolf managed to bark out. “Look for the book or evidences of the witch.”

_“I missed you! Ah- ha! No, I’m fine! You picked me up, and it surprised me. Heh. You missed me a lot too. Awh, you’re blushing!”_

_ **Do not think about that slut. You know what he’s doing now, right? He’s with another alpha, he’s happy with him, he’s happy in his bed, taking his time being broken into like the horrible, slutty, despicable omega he is and he’s enjoying everything everything. Look look look at him as he writhers around-** _

The Wolf covered his ears. The ringing was back, and it was so much louder than before. The smell of lavender wrapped around him, choking him completely. The mixture of floral scents was something he had smelt before. Gods, fuck- no. It wasn’t. He coughed as the collar tightened around him. Little jolts of electricity traveled over him, shocking him in small, painful bursts. He was fine. Everything was… Oh, what was his name? What was he doing here? He needed to get home to Feliciano… Feliciano. Beautiful, wonderful, lovely Feliciano.

_ **He is a filthy whore who will open his legs to any alpha who looks his way. Remember the night you met, remember the three alphas he was with? He was happy to be with them, see? See? You know better than to fall for this, you despicable mutt!** _

_‘Remember! You must remember! Remember your name! You must!’_

_“Ah! Look! It must have snowed last night! It’s so pretty, don’t you think? Let’s go play in it! Oh, don’t say that. You’re never too old to play in the snow! Come on, see? Awh, you’re so cute.”_

Three voices in his head. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except those three voices. The Wolf dropped to his knees as the pain became unbearable, as the scent continued to wrap around him like a snake. It was choking him, breaking him, mending him, he didn’t know. He clawed at the collar at his neck, reopening the wounds for the one thousandth time. Off… off. OFF.

“General!”

_ **Do not succumb to that- No! Don’t! You know exactly what awaits you if you do!** _

_‘Remember your name, remember your identity. Remember, it is the only way!’_

_“Oh… Oh. No one else… I promise you, no one else. Only you, ohh. Only you, Ludwig. Forever. Ludwig… Ludwig…”_

His name.

He had a name.

It was Ludwig.

Oh.

.

Lovino pressed himself to Antonio desperately as their world burned around them. He did not want to admit how terrified he was as the soldiers finished chaining everyone. By the gods, they even chained the two pregnant omegas. Children wailed, and mothers tried to console them, but it was no use. They wouldn’t stop crying. Lovino wanted to cry with them.

He pressed his face into Antonio’s neck. That man had punched his mate twice, hard enough that it looked like Antonio was going to throw up. And Lovino could do nothing. They were going to be dragged to Camelot, where they would be separated and tortured, and he would have to hear his mate cry from the pain, and they would watch each other fade away… He swallowed his cries.

There was a very loud, guttural scream before it was abruptly cut off. Lovino drew his face away and watched as the man who punched Antonio, an apparent general, stalked out of Feliciano’s cottage with a gutted man clutched in his grip. He tossed the body onto the ground, with entrails spilling from an opened stomach. Lovino’s knees weakened.

Had he killed his own soldier?

“General Beilschmidt!”

The soldiers left the Fae in order to creep closer to their commander, right as Lovino sank to the ground with Antonio following. He had misheard. It was someone else. It couldn’t possibly be…

General Beilschmidt removed the mesh from his mouth and hair, and Lovino was staring at the face of an older, sterner, angrier Elias. Ludwig. This was Ludwig Beilschmidt, it must be. As the soldiers drew their weapons, Ludwig drew his. He was a black shadow with a silver sword. He deflected every attack thrown his way, brought on by eight different men. And he took each one of them down like they were nothing. One after the other. One beheaded, another gutted, one with a blade through his neck, another with daggers in his eyes. Blood sprayed the ground, filling the air with its metallic scent, but it was somehow not as disturbing as the absolute rage in Ludwig’s blue eyes. Desperate, hot rage, the kind cornered animals possessed. There was no way his gentle little brother allowed such a foul beast to bed him.

Ludwig did not stop until every one of his soldiers was slaughtered, drowning in their own blood. He did not spare the chained Fae a single glance. Instead he shifted into the largest, most terrifying dire wolf Lovino had ever seen. He lifted his head, sniffed the air, and took off into the burning flame.

Very slowly, Lovino and Antonio brought their gaze to each other’s. They were both thinking the same thing: a Beilschmidt who could shift into a black dire wolf. That must have been Ludwig Beilschmidt. Lovino felt sick. Something was very wrong. Oh, gods. Were they even safe? The soldiers were dead, their general gone, but the fire still raged around them, and-wait. Lovino counted the scattered bodies. Eight in a cluster on the ground, one scattered farther away. Ludwig was gone. That was only ten. There had been eleven.

Lovino looked around desperately, and saw him. A scrawny man with shaggy brown hair. He had not charged Ludwig like the other soldiers, instead he stayed back with the Fae. Lovino could not be entirely certain, but it looked like he was listening intently to something. Or someone. His mind was whirling, trying to catch up with everything he had just witnessed, so he could be mistaken, but it looked like this Avalonian soldier was listening to… Enzo.

Suddenly, the soldier’s body began to glow, and a moment later a hawk was in his place. He cried angrily then took off into the smoky sky. Lovino watched him fly away, stunned. Where was he going? He did not follow General Beilschmidt; was he going to Camelot instead? He couldn’t report this to King Alexander, who was on his way to Norge like Francis said. Could he report this to whoever was in charge of the military on the king’s absence? They still were not safe.

“What...?” Lovino choked off. “What was that? Enzo, what was that?”

No one else said a word, they seemed to be in too great of shock. Enzo met Lovino’s gaze. His dark eyes were glistening in the fire, and shadows danced across his severe face. “He asked some harmless questions. I answered them.”

Lovino stared at Enzo. Among everyone in this camp, Enzo was his least favorite. He could go so far as to say he hated the bastard, for every little taunt he hurled Feliciano’s way, for every sneer he gave Elias, and for every fight he started with Antonio. Lovino hated him, and found him repulsing, but he wasn’t… no, he couldn’t be _evil_. They had a common enemy, there was no way Enzo would betray them.

Thundering hooves echoed through the crackling camp, and a moment later, Francis was racing in front of the chained Fae on top of his white mare. The horse’s eyes were almost as white as her body from the panic she was so obviously in. Francis dismounted and rushed forward.

“Is everyone alright?” he called.

To Lovino, everything moved slowly after that, like he were stuck in a dream. Francis undid their chains, families and friends held each other in fear, and many coughed from the heavy smoke filling the air. Francis ordered everyone to stay calm, and Catalina joined him after she had slightly recovered.

“There is a way out, but you must hold onto each other and follow me!” Francis shouted. “Hurry, before the entire forest catches fire.”

Lovino was not entirely sure how long they walked, he just gripped Antonio’s hand and stumbled through the darkness. Before long, they were out of the Orlon Forest, and away from the raging fire. Their home was completely gone. Just like that, everything was taken from them.

“We’re going to Bannockburn,” Francis suddenly announced. “We will rest for the night, but then we must head for Bannockburn. We will devise a plan on the way there.” He lowered his voice as he looked at Antonio and Lovino. “In the meantime, I need the two of you to tell me everything that happened.”

Everything… Lovino felt too dizzy to speak, but he needed to. Slowly, he and Antonio took turns explaining everything, though they both left out who they believed General Beilschmidt to be; Francis did not need to be roped into that. He didn’t know Feliciano and Elias’s last name anyway. The entire time Lovino spoke, however, he swore he felt Enzo’s eyes on him.

And he could not stop himself from wondering what it was Enzo told the soldier.

.

He was in a field of wildflowers. Sometimes he woke up in this lush green field, with an assortment of colorful flowers blooming around him as they swayed in the gentle wind. Mountains bordered the field in the distance, surrounded by a swirling mist. The sky was pale, like it was brushed across the sky with pastel blue paint. There was a sort of stillness around him. It was hard to describe, but the world seemed to be paused, even as the wind whispered through the valley.

There was a hand on his head. Long fingers were tangling themselves in his hair, so gentle and loving. It was fake. He knew it was. Just like the amber eyes blinking down at him, and the soft smile he was given, and the thighs he was resting his head on. The world around him, the sky, the dirt, the flowers, all of it was a part of his mind.

That didn’t make it any less painful.

“You always look so tired when I see you.” One of the hands dropped down to his cheek, and he resisted the urge to fall against it completely. “You need to sleep.”

“No, I don’t.” He tilted his head up to look at the wind-ruffled auburn hair, the pale skin, and the pointed ears. “I need to stay here with you.”

“You’re silly,” the Faerie giggled quietly. “I’m not real.”

Of course. He knew this. This is the place he went to when he couldn’t… couldn’t… what couldn’t he do? Now he couldn’t even remember. The scent of lavender wrapped around him, but it was not violent. It was comforting, it made him want to stay here forever, until he was nothing but a husk of what he had been in some past life.

“I know you’re not,” he murmured. “I wish you were.”

“Me, too.” The soft smile widened. “But it’s okay! It’s so peaceful here, don’t you think? And we can pretend this is real, just for now. Until you need to go back.”

The voice was so real, so beautiful and lovely. He closed his eyes and smiled softly. Obviously this wasn’t real- he couldn’t recall the last time he actually smiled. “If you’re here, I never need to go back.”

_ **That won’t do.** _

His eyes flew open. The quaint meadow of wildflowers had turned into a hellish pit. The mountains were oozing with a lava flow of black gunk, ash fell from the heavens, and the sky was blood red. He tried to sit up, to see where the Faerie had gone, but it felt like someone replaced all of his insides with stones. He couldn’t. He looked around desperately, trying to him- there he was. A few paces away.

The Faerie’s clothes were torn, and golden blood dripped through the tattered remains from grotesque wounds. He smiled softly, but it was twisted and filled with so much pain.

“Come back,” he whispered to the Faerie. A whisper was all he could manage, his throat was too tight. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“Like you would do a better job protecting me?” the Faerie asked in a playful tone. “You had so many chances to save me, and look! You saw what happened to me, didn’t you? What’s the point of staying with you, the alpha who’s supposed to protect me, if you constantly let me down?” He giggled, but tears were streaming down his face. The smile fell from his face completely, leaving him empty and hollow and _gone_. “You let so many hurt me. I won’t ever forgive you, mutt.”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Yes, you did.” The Faerie gestured to his mauled and dirtied body. “You think I did all of this to myself?”

“No, I-I don’t… know.”

_ **You killed your own men. You let Alexander down. He’s going to bring the beast tamer out when he hears of this, you know that right? He’ll have the tamer whip you for what you’ve done!** _

He wanted to cover his ears, because whips… whips terrified him. Terrified him to the point of sickness, and he swore he could feel the scars on his back bleeding and stinging and hurting-

_ **You know what’s going to happen now?** _

“Gods, stop-”

“You let them hurt me!”

“I didn’t!”

“You’re a liar!”

He couldn’t take much more of this. He was going to go insane, and everything _hurt_. That collar, it was shocking him again. The daemon was killing him, gods it hurt so much, why couldn’t it just _stop_?

_ **One, we’re following the trail of that witch. His scent is in this forest, you can follow it like you did before.** _

The collar tightened. The Faerie was screaming, and so was he.

_ **Two, we’re going to find the witch and his little cadre. We’re going to drag him back to Camelot with that fucking book.** _

It was getting harder to breathe, to see, to hear, to just be alive. His body was getting heavier, and, oh gods, he felt like he was being split open.

_ **And three. That scent, that scent that made you fucking lose it? Yeah, it’s with the witches’ scent. When you see that gods damn Faerie whore, you’re ripping him apart, do you hear me? You’re ripping him limb from limb. Oh, what’s that? Your brother’s scent is there too? You’re gouging his eyes out and hanging him from a tree by his own guts. Kill them all, mutt. We have been over this time and fucking time again. They. Mean. Nothing. To. You.** _

“Don’t- you can’t hurt them.” He was going to pass out.

The daemon’s laughter echoed through him until it was all he could hear. _**Like you can fucking stop me.**_

Blue eyes flashed open in a dark forest, connected to the body of a black dire wolf. The smell of smoke was so heavy, just like this exhausted feeling in his body. Slowly, the dire wolf picked himself off of the ground and looked around. Behind him, a forest was smoldering in flames. He must have fled the area before collapsing.

A collar tightened around his neck. He couldn’t remember anything. They found the Fae, they chained them, he briefly questioned their leader, and then he walked into one of the cottages. Then nothing. Empty.

_ **Smell the air.** _

He did. Maples. Iron. Lavender.

_ **Focus on it. Run toward it. That’s the witch; find him, drag his carcass back to Camelot.** _

He focused on the scent, until it became a string in front of him. His path. He growled, and took off, racing toward the end of that string. He ignored his aching body and his fuzzy head. It didn’t matter right now. He was going to do his duty to King Alexander by finding that witch.

Because he was the Wolf, he was Avalon’s strongest general, and he made sure he completed every single job given to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a character who is quickly slipping into the realm of insanity (or was he already there?). Be prepared, this will be explored in more depth next chapter. I think I can say that, or did I just spoil my own story?
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> -Ironteeth witches: these are a species of witches created by Sarah J. Maas in her series Throne of Glass (I highly recommend the books if you're into high fantasy). In her books, they are witches born that way, but in my story, they were made.
> 
> Sir Gawain and the Green Knight: I had so many notes for the last chapter, I couldn't put this in there! This was a book published anonymously in the 1300s. It follows the story of King Arthur's knight Sir Gawain, and the strange Green Knight. After the knight crashes a Christmas party by asking if anyone is brave enough to behead him, Gawain accepts the challenge. He knocks his head clean off, and then the knight says Gawain will find him in a year and a day in order for the same thing to be done to him. A year passes and Gawain goes looking for the Green Knight. A lot of things happen, but in the end, the Green Knight doesn't end up beheading Gawain. Really, the summary would be much too long to put in here, so if you're really interested (but not interested enough to read Ye Olde English text) look at the wiki! It does a good job of explaining the summary.
> 
> -_Vögelchen_: 'Birdie' in German
> 
> -_mein Freund_: 'My friend' in German, though if you're not specific, this can also refer to 'my boyfriend' ;)
> 
> -_mein Kleiner_: 'My little one' in German.
> 
> I think I have most of these right. I've been learning German for an entire year now, but some things are still kind of difficult. Correct me if I'm wrong!


	11. False Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to have a lot more in it, but I didn't want to put another 35 paged chapter out again, so, um. Next chapter will be out next week (since my spring break has been extended another week. I'm happy but the circumstances surrounding the extension are not favorable, unfortunately. I really hope everyone stays safe in the face of this virus!)
> 
> The amazingly talented bogbees on tumblr drew beautiful [fanart](https://bogbees.tumblr.com/post/612331599990833152/i-can-dream-ab-what-will-happen-in) for this story. Check it out and give them a follow!

_Thwack... Thwack._

Matthew groaned softly as he peeled his heavy eyes open. Whatever that noise was had obviously woken him. He blinked a few times to get his bearings in order, but it was basically futile to get anything in order without his glasses. Once they were on, he looked around. He was leaning against a tree with his cloak draped over his body.

Across from him, snuggled with his own cloak, Feliciano lay on his side next to the old, quietly smoldering fire they started last night. Elias was draped across Kuma’s back, with one of his arms thrown over his face. It was no surprise Elias had almost immediately grown attached to the dire bear upon seeing him. The boy pestered Matthew with questions for nearly two hours straight as they traveled the day before on his familiar alone. It was rather cute.

Matthew glanced at the tree beside his own, where a discarded jacket and rucksack lay. The bow and quiver were gone. Gilbert must be the one making the noise. With nothing better to do, Matthew grabbed his own satchel and retrieved one of the vials of salve. After lathering his knee with some of the contents, and rubbing the herb elecampane over his teeth, he slowly climbed to his feet and headed for the direction of the noise with his staff in hand.

By the lightness of the sky, it couldn’t be much later then dawn, but even so the weather wasn’t too bad. Matthew let the cool breeze kiss his face. It was refreshing, just like the birds singing in the trees. Perhaps today would prove to be peaceful. No, that was an illusion. In reality, he did not have the luxury of peaceful days anymore, not with Esmya on the possible verge of collapse.

Two months. They had two months to find King Arthur and the rest of his court before Avalon made it to Norge. Two months was too little of time.

_Thwack… Thwack._

The noise was louder now as Matthew stepped around a set of prickly hawthorn shrubs, and there was Gilbert. He stood with his back to Matthew, and his crossbow in hand. The tree in front of him had some of its bark carved away, making the wood much smoother. Four arrows were imbedded inside of it, from the top of the smooth wood to the center of it. There was room for two more arrows in the bottom.

Matthew stayed quiet as Gilbert pulled an arrow from the quiver- now tied to his waist instead of his back- and positioned it against the bow. He raised the bow across his arm and aimed it. Matthew blinked, transfixed. Gilbert’s entire demeanor seemed so much more subdued, concentrative. Where had that swaggering, boisterous energy gone? There was not a single tremor in Gilbert’s body as he stood in place, like a stone carving. His breaths were long and slow. In, out. In, out. 

His hand clenched the trigger and the arrow was released. It landed directly beneath the lowest arrow; in no time, another was imbedded under that one. Amazing. Matthew hadn’t even seen Gilbert fire that one!

“Impressed, aren’t you?” Gilbert turned his head to the side, enough for Matthew to make out the growing smirk stretching across his face. “I know. I’m pretty cool.”

And the impressed feelings inside Matthew vanished. “When you say you’re cool, it instantly makes you uncool.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Gilbert strutted to the tree and carefully plucked the arrows from the wood. “I think that’s just you being your weird, ‘I’m- not- going- to- tell- you- how- I’m- really- feeling’ self.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should have just stayed where he was. “It’s too early in the morning for this, Gil.”

“Fair enough.” Gilbert sent him another grin over his shoulder as he placed the arrows back into the quiver. The sharp iron heads gleamed in the soft lighting, and Matthew wondered how sharp the points were. The answer was pretty clear when he took in the small markings against the tree.

“What are you doing anyway?” Matthew asked.

Gilbert meandered over to Matthew’s side, his nose twitching when he stopped beside him. Matthew had the sneaking suspicion Gilbert was sniffing the air for his scent. The thought made his stomach tighten oddly enough. “Is it not obvious? I’m practicing!”

Practicing. It didn’t really seem like Gilbert needed to practice firing a bow, not with the precision he just displayed. But the alpha turned back on his heel and took out another arrow. As he lined it with his crossbow, Matthew kept speaking. “Do you need to? Practice, I mean.”

The arrow shook slightly in Gilbert’s grip. “Of course I do,” came the quiet reply. “I need to hone my skill again. I used to be _awesome_ with a bow- Don’t look at me like that, I’m not exaggerating. I could get a bull’s eye without even concentrating on the target, but that’s all in the past.”

Matthew blinked. Gilbert mentioned once or twice he used to be considered a sharpshooter, but he never went into any detail. “You were that good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Gilbert lowered his bow again in order to tap the corner of his eye. “Part shapeshifter comes with the perks of animal instincts. Like, my sight is a lot better than a human’s, which makes it easier for me to shoot targets. My village used to have annual hunting competitions, and every year, Ludwig and I were the winners; he found the trail, and I shot them down.”

Now Matthew narrowed his eyes. “But I thought shapeshifters only maintained a really good sense of smell in their human forms. Things like better hearing and seeing stayed with their beastly forms.”

“Yeah, that’s the case for full blooded shapeshifters.” He shrugged. “But not me. Everything is just stuffed into the form you see right here!”

Matthew leant fully against his staff as Gilbert raised his crossbow again. He waited until the arrow was fired, flying through the air with such grace and accuracy, before it struck the dead center of the tree. “So you’ve never shifted before?”

“Right.” Gilbert took another arrow and fired it. It landed beside the one in the tree this time. He paused. “At least, I don’t think I ever have.” He glanced in Matthew’s direction, and Matthew held his breath. It looked like Gilbert wanted to say something. But that something never came. Instead, he just said, “I’ve told you before, my mom was a human and my father was a shifter. It’s rare, but sometimes things like me come about. I’m immortal, and I’ve got animal instincts, but I just can’t shift.”

“Oh.” Matthew realized how little he actually knew of Gilbert. Aside from this shapeshifter thing, there wasn’t much else he knew of Gilbert’s background. The thought saddened him. “So, what? You just fell out of practice with your archery?”

Gilbert hesitated again, and Matthew resisted the very strong urge to press, to ask, to tell Gilbert it was okay to let him know things he might be uncomfortable with sharing. A tiny, sadistic voice in his mind hissed, _‘How can you think that, when there are things you can never tell him?’_

“I stopped using the bow,” Gilbert started slowly. “Because I couldn’t hold it.” He dropped his gaze to one of his hands, and clenched it in a fist. “After everything happened with Feli and Ludwig, my body started shaking uncontrollably a lot, and you can’t really aim if you can’t keep your body still. It didn’t happen all the time, obviously, but enough that I stopped using my bow recreationally. It even fucked up my weapon work.”

Matthew recalled the shed behind Gilbert’s shack. There were countless weapons, from swords to axes, and even a few lances. All had been built by Gilbert, but he never sold them. Instead, he made coin by selling firewood. “That’s why you never sold them,” he murmured. “You didn’t think they were good enough.”

Gilbert curled his fist and stared into the palm of his hand. There were callouses along the pale surface, and so many faint nicks and burn marks, probably from working with hot metals. “For nine years, the only thing I was proud of was my crossbow. If I’m not proud of it, why the hell would some stranger want to buy it?”

“I thought they were lovely,” Matthew murmured.

A huff of laughter came from Gilbert as he raised his crossbow once more. “You’re not a warrior, Birdie. You don’t understand.”

“You aren’t a warrior either, Gil.”

Gilbert faltered. He did not look at Matthew, and he was rather thankful for that. His throat was inexplicitly tight, and there was a slight burning sensation against his eyes. He couldn’t explain it, but he did not want Gilbert to look his way while he felt like this. He pushed past the lump in his throat as he continued to speak. Maybe he shouldn’t say this, but he wanted Gilbert to hear his words.

“I think you put too much pressure on yourself to be someone strong, to- to protect others. To look out for them.” Hesitantly, he moved just a bit closer to the alpha. “But you don’t need to. Feli, Elias, and I will be okay.”

The lean shoulders that seemed to hold the weight of the world stiffened, the motion causing fear to rise in Matthew’s chest. He had been too bold. His words came from nowhere, and Gilbert found them strange and too invasive. Then, the shoulders relaxed as a long sigh came from Gilbert. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Gilbert suddenly growled as he lifted the crossbow once more and fired the arrow inside. “I never said I would protect _you_, Birdie.”

Matthew blinked in surprise. Gilbert wasn’t lashing out, he wasn’t snapping or- well, he was growling, but there was no malice in his voice. Something warm blossomed in Matthew’s chest, like the sun goddess herself pressed her hand against him. He smiled softly, and turned around. He could bring up the Shadow Soldier, and the way Gilbert left him in order to lead the soldier away to protect him, but he would keep quiet.

“I know,” he said softly instead. “I was just using myself as an example.”

He started to limp away to head back to their little makeshift camp. Feliciano and Elias were probably awake at this point, and Matthew didn’t want them to worry.

“I don’t need to protect you because you, you already- gods.”

Matthew paused, and glanced behind him. Gilbert looked so small standing in between the trees, with his black pants, dusty gray shirt, and bright red face. Without his long jacket, he seemed exposed to the world and all of its cruelty. If Matthew were to say he wanted to hold Gilbert to shield him from such cruelty, would Gilbert hiss and spit? Alphas did not like to be held, he remembered Adhan saying something like that off handedly once.

“It’s why most witches do not have mates,” she said. “Witches are strong-willed creatures, Matthew. We do not need to be coddled and protected; instead, we are protective and potent. Most alphas do not want that in a mate. Witches do not conform to an alpha’s interest, thus we are not tied down to one.”

He wondered if Gilbert were different from most alphas. He wondered why he even cared. He wondered why his chest was tightening to the point of pain.

Finally, Gilbert composed himself enough to mumble, “You can already protect yourself.”

He wondered why those words meant so much to him.

Matthew ducked his head as his cheeks heated. “I’m a cripple, Gil. All I can do is fire a bow.”

“Yeah, so what if you’re a fucking cripple?” Matthew raised his head again, and this time, Gilbert’s eyes were right on him. His face was still red, but his voice was louder, like it usually was. “You’re a cripple who’s also a witch and a seer, give yourself some credit! You have visions of the future _and_ you can do weird magic, apparently. That’s plenty. So stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” The serious expression left Gilbert’s face, replaced by a mischievous smile. “Chew on your own words.”

Gilbert’s words took a moment to sink in. It sounded like Gilbert thought him strong and capable. He brought a hand to his mouth as he chuckled softly. Quickly, his chuckle turned into laughter, and then Gilbert was laughing too. He brushed a stray tear away from beneath his glasses as he attempted to compose himself.

“Are most alphas as ridiculous as you, or am I just lucky?”

Gilbert grinned like he did, a sight that has become familiar and welcoming to Matthew. “I’m one of a kind, and I have a feeling you are too, Mister Beta Vixen.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “I prefer Birdie to that name.” He paused. “Why do you call me Birdie anyway?” It was a question he kept meaning to ask, but he constantly forgot in the moment.

Gilbert shrugged as he raised his crossbow once more with the shadow of a smile still lingering on his face. “Birds have always been my favorite. There’s something so peaceful about them, whether they’re yellow canaries singing in the trees, or huge eagles that ride the wind. Each one of them has this unexplainable gentleness to them, even when they’re hunting or eating or whatever. I see that same kind of gentleness in you, Birdie.” His hand found the trigger, and the arrow was released. Another bull’s eye. “That’s why your name is Birdie.”

Flattery was not something Matthew was used to, and he was almost one hundred percent sure Gilbert was not aware of the flattery he was delivering, but it caused Matthew’s face to flush regardless. “You’re unbelievably ridiculous.”

“Huh? What did I say?”

Matthew chuckled softly and only shook his head, but then he remembered the heavy secret still buried in his heart. The name that was written on the first page of the _Fabula_: Philip Jones Pendragon. His true identity. Would Gilbert still refer to him as having ‘unexplainable gentleness’ if he figured out his name? His tongue turned to lead. He did not want to know the answer.

“There you two are. Good morning!” Feliciano’s cheerful voice rang throughout the forest as the Faerie emerged from behind the brush, Elias in tow. Elias’s eyebrows were drawn together as he looked from Gilbert to Matthew, like he couldn’t quite figure something out. Feliciano, on the other hand, was close to beaming. “Want me to go hunting, Gil?”

“Wow, what?” Gilbert spun around and grinned in Feliciano’s direction. “Since when do you hunt?”

“Since I had to?” Matthew hadn’t even noticed the bow and quivers on Feliciano’s back. That’s right, Antonio gave them to him before they left.

“Is it that strange for Feli to offer?” Matthew asked, tossing a glance Gilbert’s way.

Elias brushed some messy hair from his face. “My mom is a really good hunter! He’s fast, so he can always keep up with prey! I’ve seen him!”

“Uh.” Gilbert seemed to be at a loss. “When I took him out hunting, he cried when I brought down a doe.”

Feliciano covered his face with his hands as Elias turned widened eyes on him. “That was a long time ago!” he exclaimed. He dropped his hands as he shook his head in Matthew’s direction. “Fae omegas usually rely on the alphas to hunt for them. There are exceptions, like Manon and Lovino, but for the most part it is up to every alpha Fae to provide food for the omegas and children. I didn’t want to rely on the alphas in my village, and I felt guilty for relying on Antonio so much, so I decided to hunt for myself and Elias.”

Witches were obviously not the only strong-willed creatures of Esmya. Matthew smiled softly. “You started fending for yourself.”

“Mmhm!” Feliciano slung the bow from his shoulder. It was crafted differently from the longbow Gilbert gave to Matthew. The top part of it was curved, and there were intricate designs crafted along the side. It was much more beautiful than the one he had. “Besides, the bow was originally a Fae invention! I feel cool using one.”

It was hard to believe someone with such childlike innocence had been through as much as Feliciano. Immediately, Matthew felt guilty. Feliciano wasn’t childlike, he was just incredibly positive. Matthew envied him a bit, actually.

“Then let’s hunt together!” Gilbert exclaimed. “I gotta see how good you are!”

Feliciano glanced at Matthew, and Matthew knew what he was asking before he even said it. He smiled reassuringly. “I don’t mind staying with Elias. Just make sure you two hurry, I want to get going soon.”

“We’ll be quick!” Gilbert promised. He and Feliciano hurried away deeper into the forest until they were completely concealed by looming trees and the dark shadows they casted.

Matthew looked down at Elias, who was staring right back with narrowed blue eyes. His heart quickened at the stare out of nerves. Elias’s eyes were haunting, in the way that made him think the boy could look right through him. He was not entirely sure how to act around Elias, either. The boy was as unpredictable as a summer storm, to the point that Matthew could not see any of Feliciano in him. In fact, Elias was more like a combination of Lovino and Gilbert. Angry, reckless, moody, and wild.

And Matthew was not entirely sure how to get along with such a combined personality.

“Can you teach me how to braid my hair?”

Come again? Where did that come from? Elias shuffled a bit on his feet as he, finally, dropped his piercing gaze. “Manon braids it sometimes, but it always looks really girly when she does it. Your hair is almost as long as mine, so I thought, maybe, you could teach me how to make it look manly? Since you kind of look like an alpha.”

Matthew almost choked. “Um?”

Elias frowned with a very red face. “Look, it was just a question. I don’t really care, I just thought maybe you could teach me but if you don’t want to-”

“No!” Matthew blurted out. “I’ll do it, you just surprised me.”

Slowly, Elias looked up at Matthew again. Then he smiled, and he no longer looked so intricate. He was just a boy when he smiled. “Really? You’ll teach me?”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes.”

“Oh. Cool! Can we do it beside Kuma?”

Now Matthew was holding back laughter. “Yes.”

“Yay!”

Before long, Matthew and Elias were sitting by the old fire pit with Kuma at their side. The bear lazily gnawed on some berries Elias had grabbed from a bush they passed on their way back to their little camp, and Elias seemed more than happy to watch him as he sat between Matthew’s legs as Matthew attempted to braid a strand of golden hair.

“Just a piece?” he asked, and Elias nodded.

“Yep. Govert has these really old books with drawings of Fae warriors in them, and every warrior has a strand of hair braided. I want to be like them.”

Matthew split the strand of Elias’s hair into three pieces, and crossed one over the other. Elias’s words were cheery, but they pierced Matthew’s heart in a way not many would understand. A shapeshifter boy who wanted to be a Fae warrior, something he could never truly be. Matthew knew what that was like.

“It’s pretty easy,” Matthew said with maybe a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice. It sounded fake to him. Gods, he didn’t know how to handle children! “Just one simple braid, nothing fancy. If you make it too thick, it will look a bit more feminine then what you’re aiming for. Keep it skinny.”

“Okay.” The sun broke through the branches of the trees and rained down on them. It was pleasantly warm. For once, the wind was not bitingly cold. It seemed today was going to be unseasonably warm, an escape from the recent weather patterns. It was so easy to fall into this illusive peace. “I keep having a dream.”

Matthew paused. “What kind of dream?”

“About the Green Knight.” Elias’s voice grew small. “Ever since we saw him.” That was four days ago. “He keeps calling me Galahad, like he did when we were really there. Am I… Galahad? Like you’re Merlin, and Gilbert is Gawain?”

The Green Knight said many strange things that night, but Matthew did not understand what had been the name he called Elias. Obviously, Matthew read stories about Sir Galahad, the knight who bested Lancelot in literally everything, but he never had any visions of the young knight. Then the Green Knight referred to Elias by that name.

“I’m not entirely sure, Elias,” Matthew confessed. “You will find there aren’t many clear answers when it comes to things like prophecies and omens.”

“I see that.” Elias kicked his boots together. “Have you ever seen Galahad? In your dreams?”

He smiled a bit as he finished braiding the strand of hair. “No, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t important. He is the son of Lancelot, and they find the Holy Grail together.”

“What makes the grail holy?”

Matthew tied the bottom of the braided hair together gently, as to not hurt the boy. “Legend says the sun goddess and the moon god breathed life into the chalice, and thus whoever drinks from the grail will live forever.”

“Wow.” Elias tilted his head back, and blinked several times when he met Matthew’s gaze. “Are my dad and I going to find the grail then?”

There was no certain answer, but then again, nothing was certain when it came to the future. Even Matthew’s visions were not certain. He did not want to give Elias false hope, because that’s what was shining in Elias’s eyes. The hope of doing something with the father he only knew through stories. Without thinking, he patted the top of Elias’s head.

“The future can diverge into many paths,” he said quietly. “Nothing is set in stone, that’s what makes the future so difficult to handle sometimes. I can’t say you will certainly find the grail with your father, but I am sure the two of you will go on countless adventures no matter what it is you’re looking for.”

Elias’s eyes widened impossibly so, with wonder twinkling within the icy blue like sunlight on a frozen lake. He pursed his lips, then they curled into a smile. He did not press the matter further, instead he said, “Can I braid your hair now?”

When Feliciano and Gilbert returned, Matthew’s hair had three braids in it, held together by tiny sticks. Elias was excited to show off his handy work, and Matthew was more than happy to let him.

.

As the warm winter day dragged on, Matthew and the others continued to walk through Avalon’s wild forests until the day turned into a late afternoon and they appeared before the first town they were to head into. The four stood outside the town, Kuma still deep in the woods as to not arouse suspicion, and blinked at the wooden archway with the name scrawled across in iron lettering.

“Berkley,” Gilbert read from the sign. “What kind of town is in the center of a forest?”

“A lumbering town.” Feliciano pointed within the town, where a dirt road ran crookedly down the center of it. “This is the town we used to sell our goods in, before it became too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Gilbert echoed.

Matthew understood the moment he heard loud laughter from the side of one of the buildings. Three guards in silver armor were cackling with drinks in their hands and weapons at their hips. Avalon’s emblem, a lion beside a shield, rested atop their left breast. Even a town as small as this had guards within it.

“Should we bypass it?” Matthew did not want to cause any trouble. If guards caught on to their motives, if they asked Feliciano to remove his scarf, it was over.

But Gilbert shook his head. “No, we need to buy some supplies. We’ll just make sure to keep away from any guards, now come on. Before they start questioning us.” Without waiting for a reply, Gilbert spun around and marched into Berkley, with Elias behind him.

Matthew couldn’t share his confidence. They hadn’t been inside any towns before, not together. The thought of the guards grabbing Feliciano, or snagging Elias, or hurting Gilbert made his stomach churn painfully. It would be his fault for dragging them here in the first place.

An arm slipped through his own. Feliciano smiled and nodded in the direction of the town. “It’ll be okay. We’re not that suspicious looking!”

Matthew blinked. Feliciano was just a scarf away from being exposed, yet he was expressing confidence. He forced himself to smile back, relishing in the comfort Feliciano always seemed to exude. “R-right. Let’s go.”

The two slowly walked into Berkley. The guards leaning against the wooden building, that looked to be a tavern, stopped talking as they passed. Matthew glanced to the side, and caught them leering right back. The one in the middle raked his dull eyes across Matthew’s body openly. He felt his cheeks darken. His skin prickled in discomfort in such a way he never felt before. He did not like the way they were staring at him. Did they think him an omega?

Feliciano’s voice was like a beacon of light. The small Fae stopped walking and stepped in front of Matthew, only to point at the shop beside the tavern. “Oh, look! It says they sell soaps. Have you ever tried scented soap? It’s the best, really.”

The three guards leaned forward, and Matthew watched one take a step closer, but then he stopped. They scoffed and looked away. Now Matthew was confused. He blinked down at Feliciano, who smiled knowingly. He pointed to the black scarf.

“Alphas don’t want to be with omegas mourning a dead mate. It makes them uncomfortable, even guards.”

Ohh. That’s why Feliciano had gotten their attention. A fierce wave of protectiveness flooded Matthew, and he tightened his grip on Feliciano’s arm. “Please don’t do that,” he murmured softly as they continued after Gilbert and Elias, who were completely unaware of what just happened. “I would much rather them figure out I’m a beta than look at you.”

Feliciano actually laughed. “If any other alpha looks our way, they will most certainly ignore us with Elias around.”

“Why?”

“It seems human alphas are turned off by mothers, unless it’s their mate. They think them old and unwilling to perform properly.”

Matthew gawked. “Perform?”

Feliciano blinked innocently. “In the bedroom.” Matthew wanted to leap away from this conversation, until Feliciano kept talking. “That’s where humans diverge from immortals. Fae, shapeshifters, Elves, witches; alphas find mothers extremely attractive because they see them as very strong creatures, especially male omegas with children! In Versteckt, that’s the village I lived in with Ludwig and Gilbert, there was a really pretty mother who had five children! A human alpha would have glanced his way, but wouldn’t have found him attractive, but there were many unmated alpha shapeshifters who competed for the omega’s hand.”

“And, er, did one win?”

“I suppose one of them did.” Feliciano giggled softly. “The children’s father. He was gone on a three month journey, and he did not appreciate coming home to other alphas pawing at his mate.”

Matthew gave a short, unexpected laugh. “I didn’t know immortals found mothers so, um, attractive.”

“Immortals are very particular about strength.” Feliciano smiled brightly. “And now you know!”

Matthew listened to Feliciano prattle on in his song-like accent as they continued along the dirt road. As he listened, he looked around the town. It was an odd place, with buildings clustered on both sides of the road. They were all small, and made completely from wood. The only shop that looked remotely different was shaped like a cottage and had three pies on the open windowsill. The smell made Matthew’s mouth water. It seemed this stretch of buildings were dedicated to shops, nothing else. Not many people roamed the streets either, and those who did were shabbily dressed. Patches on cotton dresses, holes on leather boots, and frizzled hair on both men and women. This was the kind of town people who were born in died in.

They took a turn off of the dirt road where a couple of scattered buildings were clustered. Matthew instantly spotted the inn. He found it strange that the inn was tucked so far away from the main entrance to the town, though he shrugged it off with the assumption Berkley did not receive many travelers.

Gilbert and Elias were already standing in front of the building. Elias groaned when Feliciano and Matthew stepped in front of him. “You guys took forever.”

Though it was obviously due to Matthew’s limp, Feliciano said, “We don’t like to rush like alphas.”

Gilbert snorted. “It’s called being practical!” Matthew rolled his eyes, and Gilbert’s grin grew. “Let’s get ourselves a room and then do a little shopping. Those pies smelled great, didn’t they?”

The four walked inside, and this building did not smell great. The smell of must was very strong, even to Matthew. He felt bad for Gilbert and Elias, who actually started coughing. Their noses were much stronger. The wood inside was so dark, it looked almost black. There was a fireplace roaring in the corner, an unnecessary feat considering how warm it was outside. It created a creepy glow within the foyer, and casted ominous shadows in the corners. Elias stepped closer to his mother.

Behind the counter sat an elderly woman with dark skin and thick black braids. Her skin was decorated with lines, but most definitely not laughter lines. She did not smile as they walked over. Matthew felt bad, the woman must be sweltering in the dark cotton gray dress she wore. 

“Afternoon,” said Gilbert hoarsely. “We’ll take two rooms, or one room with four beds!”

The woman’s voice was almost as hoarse as she grumbled, “One room, two beds.”

_Great_, Matthew thought miserably. _Back to sharing a bed with Gilbert._

“Fine,” Gilbert sighed as he took his pouch from his hip. He placed two bronze coins on the counter, and a spindly hand grabbed it. After analyzing the bronze, she pressed a large key into Gilbert’s hands. “Thanks.”

They walked down the hall, which did not smell much better and seemed to get only hotter. Matthew was tempted to suggest they just sleep outside tonight, but a bed would be nice… They made it to the room with the number engraved on the key, and Gilbert slid it through the opening. After literally pushing the door open, and almost falling inside, they were able to walk in.

“Oh, hell no,” Gilbert groaned.

Matthew instantly knew what caused his distress. The beds were obviously not meant for two grown adults to share, their size was almost laughable. But there would be no laughing from Matthew, considering he would be the one laying on one. He sighed instead.

“Oh, this is fine!” Feliciano walked inside the room and patted one of the beds. That was all there was, just two beds and a circular table between them. Feliciano shoved the shutters of the window above the beds open, and a warm breeze wafted inside. “It could be a lot worse.”

“No, it couldn’t!” Gilbert exclaimed

Matthew hobbled around Gilbert to the closed door off to the side. He pushed it open, expecting a closet, but it wasn’t. He gasped. “There’s a bathtub!”

“What?!” Gilbert and Feliciano were behind him instantly.

The tub was white, and the outside looked like it needed to be cleaned, but there was a lever rested at the top of the tub. Gilbert eagerly walked over to it and pushed the handle up. A stream of water burst from the lever in time with his movement. “Okay,” he said. “This place makes for up for its shit beds with this baby right here!”

“I didn’t know a town so far from the big cities would have running water,” Matthew murmured.

They took turns pulling the handle and watching the cold water drain away until they remembered they were quite hungry. After disposing themselves of their weapons- though Gilbert kept a hunting dagger on him- and locking up, they marched out of the hot inn and back outside. They counted the money they had on hand, which wasn’t much, but it was enough for a bit of hot food, and the supplies they needed to collect.

“We need two more blankets,” Gilbert said as he counted on his fingers. “And it wouldn’t hurt to get some netting for fishing. Feli wants a pair of boots, too…”

Feliciano pointed to his curved brown shoes. “It already has a hole in it!”

“And we all want some food,” Gilbert finished. He nodded to himself. “I think the netting is going to have to wait, but we’ve enough for everything else.”

Concern grew in Matthew. If they were running out of money here, what were they going to do in Camelot? Francis said those in Bannockburn would help them get into the palace, but that meant nothing when it came to money and expense’s.

“I don’t need the boots,” Feliciano pointed out. “And if we get some fabric, I can stitch up a blanket or two. That wouldn’t cost as much as actually buying two blankets.”

“Are you sure?” Matthew asked, even as Gilbert shook his head. “That’s a bit of work to ask of you.”

Feliciano waved off his concern. “I can do it tonight. I don’t sleep that well anyway, so think of this as something that will help me in the long run!”

Gilbert attempted to intervene. “The money is fine, really-”

But Matthew didn’t want to hear it. “No, it’s not. If we run out of money, we’re stuck. We don’t have a way to make anymore right now.”

Gilbert frowned at Matthew, and Matthew hoped he didn’t like being scolded in front of Feliciano and Elias, but then his eyes lit up in a way that worried Matthew. “Well, we do have one way, but there are children present and I don’t want to taint their innocence!”

Feliciano gave a pointed look at Elias, who groaned and covered his ears with a muttered, “Fine!”

“If we need someone to turn some tricks, we have that someone!” Gilbert exclaimed quite proudly. “Pull in some stupid alphas and steal the money right from them, before they even knew what hit them.”

Matthew had no idea what that meant, but then he thought about it, and came to the horrific realization that Gilbert meant… His face flamed. “Gilbert, that is incredibly rude! You shouldn’t joke about Feli doing something like that when his son is right there!”

“Feli?!” Gilbert actually looked offended. “I would sever my left leg before I let Feli do something like that! No, I wasn’t talking about him at all.” He smirked as he leaned forward, closer to Matthew. “I was referring to _you_, Birdie. You’ve got a pretty enough face.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. There was no flattery this time, just insult. He smacked Gilbert’s shoulder and looked away with a bright red face. “Please,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Can we go get something to eat?”

“Yes!” Feliciano cheered, gently ushering Elias along, who dropped his hands and looked around expectantly, as if waiting for someone to explain what is was that just happened. “And let’s leave the pickpocketing for when we really need it. Don’t worry, Matthew! I think Gilbert was trying to compliment you, and, yes, it was delivered quite poorly, but it was still kind of sweet!”

Matthew wanted to disappear. He made sure Feliciano and Elias were out of earshot before he whirled on a still smirking Gilbert. “_You_ have the body type of an omega, so, if we ever have to do something like that, I think you should do it. Turn as many tricks as you need to.”

The bastard didn’t look so smug anymore, as his mouth dropped open and his red eyes widened. It was Matthew’s turn to smirk. He knew exactly how to shut Gilbert up. Unfortunately, the effect did not last for long. Gilbert composed himself and nudged Matthew’s arm. “Guess that’s what makes us a good pair, huh, Mr. Beta- With- Freakishly-Broad-Shoulders.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Alpha-With-A-Pinched-Waist.”

The two ambled along behind Feliciano and Elias until they stopped outside of a stall and ordered something called a shepherd’s pie to share, which was new to Matthew and Elias. It was hard to tell if it was good or not, since none of them had eaten anything other than, in Matthew and Gilbert’s case, burnt meat and, in Feliciano and Elias’s case, watered down soup for quite some time. Matthew missed Adhan and her coven’s cooking. Most of what they ate was vegetarian based, but it was delicious nonetheless. He thought about the coven’s food as he shoveled down bites of his shepherd’s pie.

When they finished, Gilbert stood up and brushed the crumbs from his chest. “Since this thing was so cheap, wanna get a real pie?”

“Yes!” Elias jumped up next, grinning brightly. “Can we?”

Soon enough, Matthew was watching Gilbert, Elias, and Feliciano walk away to the little cottage they passed earlier with the delicious smell wafting from it. He stayed where he was, on the ground outside the vendor. With the palms of his hands in the grass, he leant back and stared at the dark blue sky. Today was actually quite… fun. That was not an adjective he would label days of travel. Sure, Gilbert made them enjoyable, but fun?

If Matthew could live every day like this, laughing with friends and enjoying the company of one another without any worries, would it be like this? Would he be happy?

_‘Merlin.’_ The staff across his lap grew increasingly warm.

He knew that voice, it was the one belonging to the male Faerie who had spoken to him in his vision nine years ago. It was the one who spoke to him just a few nights ago, in his vision with the dragon. He looked around slowly.

_‘Merlin, you must hurry.’_

Matthew saw him then. He stood on the other side of the town, with piercing golden eyes trained directly on Matthew. He stood with his red cape flapping in the gentle wind, two pieces of his cape attached to a circular piece of metal on his armored chest. Strips of leather hung from his shoulders and below his waist, over the leather lappet he wore. At his hip was a concealed sword, and at his back, a spear. His curly brown hair, his chiseled face, and the slight stubble on his jaw… Yes, this was the male who kept appearing in Matthew’s visions. And here, in the light of the real sun, he looked strikingly similar to… to Feliciano.

The Faerie’s voice spoke from inside his mind. ‘_Magic rests within you, Merlin, but it is untamable._’ Magic? Four women passed by, and the male disappeared as they walked right through him. Matthew blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the Faerie was standing directly in front of him. The male was huge, with broad shoulders and an even bigger presence. Matthew gasped, and tried to scramble back, but his knee barked in protest.

Golden and amber eyes bore into his, above lips that looked like they were used to smiling. He was not smiling now. ‘_The time is coming. You must find Lancelot, and then King Arthur. Gather his court, create a kingdom on which Excalibur can defend_.’

“I-I’m trying,” Matthew breathed.

_‘The dragon slumbers in the Highlands,’_ the male continued gravelly. ‘_Directly north of Bannockburn. Stop it, before it brings destruction upon Esmya.’_

Matthew was no longer sitting in this unremarkable town, instead he was standing on the ledge of a cliff. The sky was completely covered by dark clouds and smog, and the trees behind him swayed dangerously in the wind. He was not alone, there were three others with him. A white haired man beside him, whom he trusted with his life; an auburn haired man on his other side, whom he would defend; and a large blond at the end, whom would defend the three at his side. They could do nothing but watch as a dragon emerged from beneath the cliff’s edge and sailed into the sky, so close they could smell the smoke from its breath. The flap of its wings was deafening, but Matthew could hear it, the rattling of chains. Around the dragon’s neck was a stone black collar, connected to some unseeable thing below the cliff. A collar, to make it into a merciless killer. That’s why this creature was hell-bent on destruction, and they were charged with stopping it.

Everything came flooding back to Matthew, and it left him breathless. What… how did he know the collar turned it into a killer? Avalon was responsible, they must be. “We must stop a dragon,” he whispered in awe. “A dragon.”

It was a suicide mission.

_‘You need magic, Merlin_,’ the Faerie pressed. ‘_To summon me, to use my magic, use the staff. The runes will guide you.’_

Matthew wanted to ask why, _what_ did his staff have to do with any of this, but he did not get the chance. Hands were on the collar of his shirt, and were heaving him from the ground. He shut his eyes as he was slammed into the side of the stall, his head smacking against the wood so hard, tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing, boy?” a harsh voice snapped in his face. “Talking to yourself?”

Matthew forced himself to open his eyes. In front of him were the three guards from before, two men and one woman with very short hair. All were clearly alphas. The one holding him gave him a small shake. “You’re going to ignore His Majesty’s soldiers? What the hell were you doing, talking to yourself in gibberish?”

“T-talking…” They could have heard him, and no one but him would be able to see the Faerie. But why would they care? “I-I wasn’t-”

“Don’t you dare lie,” the alpha woman sneered. “Freaks like you go on disrupting the peace in towns like this. That’s why we’re here, to keep swine like you in pins!”

They thought him a ‘freak’. It didn’t matter that he was talking to himself, these guards were clearly looking for someone to bully, and he had become their unfortunate target. He flinched when he was crushed against the stall again. "And what is that staff on the ground? What the hell have you carved into it?”

Now this was a problem. The Old Language was outlawed in Avalon, including the runes. He could be arrested, questioned- gods, the _Fabula_ was in his satchel! They wouldn’t be able to open it, but they could force him to, and Avalon, King Alexander, would have access to everything. His mind began whirling, as did his stomach, both moving fast enough he thought he would surely be sick. He had no idea what to do. Nothing in his mind was working!

The guard holding him dropped one of his hands, only to cock it back. Matthew’s stomach leapt and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the hit that was to come, because the guards in Avalon tormented the people they were supposed to protect. They flirted crudely with omegas, taunted alphas, and spat on betas, and they got away with it all.

“By the gods, there you are!” Matthew cracked an eye open when Gilbert’s voice filled his ears. Then he was there, shouldering his way past one of the guards in order to stand beside Matthew. He almost fell into the lean chest when Gilbert gripped his arm. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Don’t you ever run off like that again, you hear me?” His words were harsh, but his eyes were wide, and bright, and rimmed with fear. He turned to the guards, and quickly bowed his head. “I am terribly sorry, sirs. He’s a bit slow in the head, doesn’t know how to stay out of trouble!”

The guards hesitated, clearly off-put. “You know him?” the one who had held Matthew asked.

“Aye, this here is my idiot of a cousin. He recently started living with us.” Like two deer cautiously walking into a meadow, Feliciano and Elias slipped from around the guards. Elias wasted no time in throwing his arms around Matthew’s waist, and that’s when it clicked. This was a plan of Gilbert’s.

“We’re still getting used to this, you know,” Gilbert continued gravelly. “His parents, my aunt and uncle, may the gods rest their souls, died a few months ago so we took him in, cause, see, he can’t live on his own. We were a swell, happy family in a town out west, in the new Avalonian territory, when tragedy struck and my brother, gods _rest_ his soul, died unexpectedly. Now I have been tasked with caring for his young son and mourning mate.”

Feliciano gave a little sniffle. Elias peered at the guards with half of his face buried in Matthew’s side. In the most pitiful voice Matthew has yet to hear from the boy, he cried, “You aren’t going to arrest my cousin, are you, sirs? He’s the only friend I’ve got!”

“But none of this explains that stick!” the woman exclaimed, throwing an accusing glare at the staff.

“Oh!” Feliciano did not touch it, which Matthew was thankful for, just in case it decided to glow again, but he did point in its direction. “It’s what he uses to calm down when he becomes anxious. He carves nonsense on it when he gets nervous! He’s quite the artist, no?”

The woman sniffed. “I don’t think so.”

The other two guards were quite obviously swayed, and they nodded in satisfaction. “Either way, we’ll need to see some papers, at least from one of ya.”

Gilbert almost faltered, but Feliciano was quick to retract something from his own satchel. He handed two folded pieces of paper to the guard, who instantly opened them. He raised an eyebrow as he read whatever was written on them.

“This is yours and the boys?” he asked.

“Yes,” Feliciano replied.

“Smith. That’s your mate’s last name?”

“Yes,” Feliciano said again. Matthew was shocked by the smooth lies coming from the Fae’s mouth, and by the preparation. “He comes from a long line of ironsmiths. I do hope the papers are okay, they haven’t been updated in five years.”

“Fine.” The guard read them over one more time before handing them back. “Where are you folks headed?”

“To Camelot.” This time Gilbert replied. “We have some family who live there, and are more than willing to accommodate for these unexpected circumstances.”

The guard grunted. “I see.” He glared once in Matthew’s direction, then shifted his gaze to Feliciano. Brown eyes narrowed into slits, and chapped lips curved into a smirk. It was different than Gilbert’s usual grins, this one held cruelty within it. Matthew pulled Elias closer unconsciously. “We’ll let you lot go scot free, if _you_ spend a couple nights with us. It’ll be fun, we’ll have ourselves a grand ol’ time. What do you say?”

The smile immediately dropped from Feliciano’s face, and his cheeks drained themselves of color. He completely froze. Elias let go of Matthew’s shirt in order to reach for his mother, but Matthew gently pulled his hand away. He did not think Elias understood what the guards meant, thankfully, but he could probably sense the distress Feliciano was in. Matthew silently prayed the boy would not start anything.

Instead, it seemed Gilbert was going to be the one to start something. “That’s-”

The guard suddenly laughed, interrupting Gilbert. “Hey, don’t look so scared! I’m only joking, no harm done, yeah?”

The go-lucky façade Gilbert had put up was gone. Matthew squeezed his arm to keep the alpha reined in, so he wouldn’t mess up this little plan. “Jokes are supposed to be funny,” Gilbert growled.

“No, it’s okay!” Feliciano exclaimed, messing with a strand of auburn hair. His laughter was a bit strained, and his cheeks were still as white as snow, but he met the brown eyes of the guard. “Funny, it was a funny joke!”

The guard smirked in Feliciano’s direction again, and Matthew tried not to squirm in discomfort. “Anyway, you can be on your way. Don’t cause any more trouble, we won’t be as nice about it.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Gilbert grumbled. He ushered Feliciano in front of him before he pulled Matthew and Elias with him. They each held their breath as they walked away from the guards, Matthew could still feel their eyes on him. He shivered. He wanted to crawl into bed and just sleep the rest of the day away. What an idiot. How could he be so stupid? He nearly exposed them!

They didn’t stop walking until they were standing by the bakery, where they released heavy breaths. “Damn, that was close,” Gilbert growled. “Fucking Avalonian pigs. Who do they think they are?”

Matthew did not let go of Gilbert’s arm, and Gilbert did not take it away. He tightened his grip around it instead, his hand warming from the slight muscle beneath the fabric of the jacket. It almost soothed his racing heart. If Gilbert had not arrived with some silly, brilliant plan, he would have been hurt. The guards probably would have walked away after a punch or two, but Matthew still shivered from the thought. He looked up, and was met by Gilbert’s red gaze staring back with concern etched on every inch of his face, mixed with traces of earlier anger. When Gilbert grew angry, he reminded Matthew of an animal. Uncontrollable, in a way. Matthew squeezed his arm. He was okay. Slowly, the anger dissipated. Gilbert squeezed his arm back, the message having been delivered.

Matthew looked away, and blinked in Feliciano’s direction. Feliciano was smoothing down Elias’s bangs with a smile on his face. “You’re quite the actor!” Elias didn’t look very happy, though. He just stepped closer to his mother and crossed his arms. He may not have understood what it was those guards had insinuated, but he certainly sensed his mother’s unease.

“Are you okay, Feli?” Matthew asked with guilt in his heart. He could have been hurt, or exposed, or… no, Feliciano was probably already hurt from the words sneered his way.

But Feliciano smiled brightly. “Oh, I’m fine! I should be asking you that, Matthew! Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

Matthew quickly shook his head. “N-no, I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up.” He glanced to the identification papers still clutched in Feliciano’s hands. “You have a different name on your papers?”

“And a different age. I’m only twenty-two on these!” The papers disappeared back into the satchel they came from. Feliciano’s voice dropped to a whisper as he stepped closer. “The others in the Orlon Forest have fake papers too; we needed them when we used to go into market. Most Fae names are strange to Avalonian’s, because the names originated in the Old Language. Think of how suspicious it would if a bunch of people with Raetian names wandered in on market days! And, well, Beilschmidt is clearly a tribal name. So, I dropped the ‘Beil’, changed ‘Schmidt’ to the Avalonian equivalent, and pretended to take the name Smith!”

So much work just to go into market! “How did you get these papers?”

“Francis made them for us a few years back. Nifty, isn’t it?”

With every more piece of information Matthew learned of this rebellion, the more impressed he became. They may not have been able to do much, but they were able to survive in the shadows in a world that did not think they deserved to live. It was more than enough.

“Well, that settles it.” Gilbert clapped his hands together in a finality gesture. “The two of you have been confided to our room! Don’t try to argue, that is the last time something like that is going to happen.”

Feliciano rolled his eyes in Matthew’s direction, but Matthew could not smile. This… this prophecy, his visions, almost led to his friends getting hurt. What if that guard had been serious, and would not have allowed them to walk away without keeping Feliciano for a night? What would they have done? His throat tightened as Feliciano ran his fingers through Elias’s hair and laughed brightly with his son until Elias cracked a smile. Never, Matthew would never allow something like that to happen to his friend, or to anyone.

But what if it were Feliciano or the prophecy? Gilbert or King Arthur? His friends or the future of Esmya? He felt like he was going to cry.

“Come on,” Gilbert said. “Let’s get that fabric so you two can get inside the inn. Elias and I will finish shopping.”

The fabric was purchased without any problem, and before long, they were back in their little room. Elias hugged Feliciano tightly. “I’ll be back soon! I’m going to bring the best apple pie, don’t worry.”

Feliciano smiled. “I can’t wait!”

Matthew almost jumped when Gilbert placed a hand on his shoulder. The alpha grinned reassuringly, every trace of anger and protectiveness drained from his face. “We can talk about earlier when I come back. But you don’t need to worry, Birdie. You’re safe with me.”

Matthew could barely smile.

As soon as Gilbert and Elias left, Feliciano fell onto one of the beds and kicked his shoes off. “Ah, freedom. Alphas can be so exhausting, huh?”

“I guess.”

Feliciano rolled over on his stomach, propping himself on his elbows. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your scent is really muddled.”

The last thing he wanted was Feliciano to worry about him, not after the events that just happened. It was unfair. Matthew sat on the other bed and tugged his own boots off. “I’m fine, Feli. Just really tired.”

“Then take a nap! I’m just going to stich together a blanket, boring stuff, really. Though I’m probably going to hum a song, I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

Matthew smiled softly. “Go ahead.”

He leant his staff against the wall, and hauled his leg into the bed. It was too hot for the covers, but he grabbed the other pillow beside him and wrapped his arms around it. Mentally, he was exhausted. So many thoughts whirled within his mind, from the Faerie, to the dragon, to his friends. Magic, King Arthur, Gilbert… it was all there, and it was beginning to make him sick. This was a terrible idea, staying in town for a day. They should have just picked up some supplies and left, bed and bath be damned.

Feliciano began humming on the other bed, a gentle and loving song. His voice was lovely, even if he wasn’t actually singing. Matthew recalled the time he looked into the past, and lived through several events involving Feliciano and Ludwig. How happy Feliciano seemed, how in love he and Ludwig were. There was still an emptiness surrounding Feliciano. It was hard to describe, especially since he was always smiling and cheering everyone up, but Matthew could see it. Feliciano was a muted version of what he used to be. Just because Feliciano knew Ludwig was alive did not erase the nine years of trauma, pain, and loneliness. He wondered if Feliciano was aware of this. He drifted off to a tune that no longer seemed as loving and happy as before.

Matthew must not have slept for long, because when he awoke, Gilbert and Elias were still not back. His body felt disgusting and heavy as he brought a hand up to rub his eyes. He hadn’t even removed his glasses before falling asleep. He blinked a couple of times, surprised by the dimness of the room. Was it nighttime already?

Feliciano was in the bed beside his, resting with his knees against his chest. His cheek was pressed against the top of his knees, his amber eyes staring at the wall distantly. His hand clutched something around his neck, Matthew recognized the iron cross pendant untucked from his tunic. Matthew rubbed his eyes.

“Hello,” he croaked.

Feliciano jolted. “Oh, good evening! You scared me!” He smiled. “I tried to wake you earlier when Gilbert came back with the pie, but you wouldn’t budge. We saved some for you, though! It’s really good, you have to try some.”

Oh. Perhaps he slept for longer then he thought. “Thank you.” He looked around. There was nowhere for Gilbert and Elias to hide. “Did they go out again?”

“You can’t expect an alpha child to be confined to a room as small as this,” Feliciano laughed. “Gilbert took Elias to practice some archery. They should be back soon.”

“Oh.” Matthew studied Feliciano carefully. Perhaps it was from the darkness, or the fact he had just woken up, but Feliciano seemed more subdued than before. There was a sadness running through him. Matthew could see it in the way his amber gaze stared emptily at the floorboards, and in his hands that clutched the pendant desperately. “Are you okay, Feli? What happened earlier would upset anyone, and I just, um, want to make sure you’re okay.”

The words tumbled from his mouth without any sort of filter, and they sounded like they were clumped together instead of elegantly flowing. But he said them, that’s what mattered.

“I’m really okay, I promise.” Feliciano lifted his gaze from the floor, the distance no longer so powerful in the amber orbs. “Other than the fact they practically called me a liar for what I said earlier, about human alphas not going after mothers, I’m really fine. It happens sometimes, and while that doesn’t make _it_ okay, I’m fine.”

Matthew believed him, even if he couldn’t imagine going through something like that. Before he found Gilbert, he sometimes attempted to disguise himself as an omega in taverns to pry a little more information from alphas, and he was met with mixed results. Some alphas were quite gentlemanly, others not so much.

“Were things easier with Ludwig?” Feliciano froze, and Matthew regretted the question. His mind was still fuzzy with remnants of sleep. “I am- I am so sorry, I’m not thinking straight right now. That was insensitive-”

“No, it’s okay!” Feliciano leant the back of his head against the wall, his smile softening with memories. His eyes were brightening as well. Matthew remembered reading about the eyes of the Fae, how they glowed like jewels. They sparkled in the sunlight and shone in the moonlight. This was before the curse dulled their magic, making their eyes look less gem-like. Even so, Feliciano had to have some of the most beautiful eyes Matthew has ever seen, right next to Gilbert’s.

“You’ve never seen Ludwig,” Feliciano murmured. “But he was- he is really intimidating. He doesn’t mean to be, he just has a hard time smiling, and he always looks really mean and stern but that’s just his face. He can’t help it! And he’s big, huge really. He’s tall, and broad, and muscular. Most alphas took one look at him and refused to even speak to me afterward!” Feliciano’s smile wobbled as he played with the iron cross. “Though it was pointless for them to ignore me. Ludwig wasn’t- he was nothing like most alphas, who would get really jealous when their mates were friendly with other alphas, and try to start fights. If an alpha was being pushy, he would hold my hand or put an arm around me, but even then everything about him was so _gentle_.

There were a couple of instances where he needed to show his fangs, but they were well deserved. And there were a couple of times I needed to show mine- okay, maybe a little more than a couple, but I can’t help it! It’s upsetting when others flirt with your mate! The point is, for the most part, Ludwig made sure no one messed with me, but he did it quietly. Lovingly. I guess what I’m trying to say is, yes. Of course things like this, alphas unnecessarily flirting with me, were easier with Ludwig around. I’m sure alphas like that, who pick on the weak, wouldn’t even look in my direction if Ludwig were beside me.” He made a small noise, and slowly shook his head. “Everything was easier with Ludwig around. Painting, gardening, breathing, living.”

Feliciano tilted his head to the side to look into Matthew’s eyes. So many emotions shone within them now, not just sadness. Hope, happiness, wonder, things that made life worth living. “That’s what love does to you, Matthew. It makes life easier, and better, and you realize if everyone could feel love like this, if everyone could fall asleep and wake up in the arms of their beloved, there would be no wars, no darkness, and no fear. Only peace.” Feliciano’s smile was kind as he whispered, “I hope you find something like that one day.”

There was nothing Matthew could possibly say that would even come close to a proper response. He did not want to hurt Feliciano’s feelings by telling him he could never find something so fragile and beautiful, it was not a part of his destiny. But there was a wicked part of his mind that showed him Gilbert, grinning at him reassuringly from beneath an uprooted tree, so confident even though he was about to throw himself into the jaws of death just so Matthew could run… No, that was nothing like Feliciano was describing.

He pushed the invasive thoughts far from his mind in order to smile softly. “We’re going to find Ludwig, Feli. We will.”

Feliciano smiled back. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

They did not speak for much longer. Matthew hobbled into the adjoined room to take a long, hot bath, during which he tried not to think of Feliciano’s words and instead concentrated on his earlier vision. The Faerie he continuously saw in different visions. Now he said Matthew needed magic? Beneath the water, Matthew flexed his hands. Aside from his gift of prophecies, there wasn’t any sort of magic flowing through him, there couldn’t be, even though the Faerie said there was, actually, some within him. It was just untamable. Regardless, it should have emerged by now. He’s used spells before, but those were just spells! Anyone who opened themselves up to the way of the witch could learn them! He needed to find a way to speak to this Faerie to get some questions answered. A summoning spell could work…

He recalled the Faerie’s words. _‘To summon me, to use my magic, use the staff. Let the runes guide you.’_

To use the Faerie’s magic, the staff on the runes would guide him. For some reason. He narrowed his eyes and brought his hand out of the water. His hand was littered with tiny nicks and scars, from past spell work, for every spell asked for blood. That’s how it worked. Use the staff… let the runes guide him… He jerked forward in the tub, banging his leg against the side. He was much too large for this tub.

When Gilbert touched the staff, the runes glowed. When Feliciano touched it, the entire thing glowed, but the light vanished inside the runes when it was finished. This was a complete hunch, but perhaps… Matthew gripped the edges of the tub in an attempt to stand. He wobbled, almost fell, and smacked his left foot against the side of the tub as he nearly fell out of it from his lack of balance, but he was out, standing in the now humid bathing room. Wasting no time drying off, he threw his clothes back on and hobbled out the door and back into their room, as soon as Gilbert and Elias walked back in, each holding a bow.

The room was pitch black since there were no candles, but Matthew could still see Feliciano jump off the bed. “Great, just in time!” He pointed to the now empty bathroom. “It’s time for you to take a bath, Elias.”

Elias, having just barely removed the quivers strapped to his back, groaned. “Ah- what? Now?”

Feliciano smiled, but there was a small gleam in his eyes. Matthew couldn’t describe it, but he would most certainly not want to be on the receiving end of it. “No complaining, remember? Go on, chop chop!”

Elias pouted, but he didn’t say anything back. When he passed Matthew, he grinned. “When I get out, can I tell you about my archery? I did really good!”

“You did really well,” Feliciano corrected with his gentle smile back in place.

“Oh, yeah.” Elias’s grin didn’t falter as he swiftly corrected his grammar. “I did really well!”

Matthew smiled back and nodded. “I would love to hear about it.” Elias’s grin grew, before he dashed into the bathroom and closed the door. Immediately, Matthew whirled on Gilbert and Feliciano. “Pass me my staff, and Gil, I need one of your daggers!”

They didn’t hesitate. Feliciano grabbed the staff, and jolted. “It’s so warm!” The runes glowed faintly beneath the Fae’s touch, but it did not burst into a golden spectacle like before. He handed it to Matthew, just as Gilbert gave him one of his hunting daggers.

“What’s going on?” Gilbert asked. “Your hair is soaking wet, you know.”

“Just… wait a moment.” This was a huge hunch, and it could end disastrously, but he had to test his hypothesis. He pressed the tip of his finger against the dagger’s blade, hard enough to draw a drop of blood. Gilbert and Feliciano inched closer, concern on their faces.

“Birdie, what the hell?” Gilbert murmured.

Matthew ignored him in favor of smearing his blood against one of the runes. That one rune glowed a faint gold, and the staff warmed in his hand. He pressed it there again, and kept his bleeding finger there this time. The rest of the runes started to faintly glow, too. It was different from the other times the staff had glowed. This time, he _felt_ something. It was faint, probably because of the small drop of blood he used, but it was there. There was something stirring within him. He could not pinpoint where this feeling began nor where it ended, but it must be coming from the staff. Matthew dug his finger deeper against the rune, wanting it to glow brighter, to feel more of this magic. Because that’s what this was, _magic_. 

Slowly, Matthew removed his finger. The light ceased, and the heavy warmth emanating from the staff began to cool. Save for the running water in the tub next door, the room was silent. Matthew’s slight hunch proved correct, his blood could activate _some_ magic in this staff.

“Faerie magic.” Feliciano’s whisper caught Matthew off guard. “That was Faerie magic, I could feel it.”

So it was magic belonging to the Fae who spoke to him earlier. He had been right.

“You can tell?” Gilbert asked softly, staring at the staff like it had turned into a snake. “I thought Faerie magic like that was suppressed by some curse.”

“It is.” Feliciano blinked. “The last Faerie King put a curse on those from Raetia in order to make them look more human-like, and to suppress their magic. All Fae from Raetia; the Seelie or Sun Fae and Gardenia Fae, and even the Unseelie or Moon Fae. But somehow, this staff has Faerie magic in it.” His eyes widened. “Catalina mentioned there was Faerie magic connected to it, but she never brought it up again. She was right!”

“But how the hell does Matthew, a human, have something with Faerie magic in it?” Gilbert’s voice was hushed. If someone overheard a conversation such as this, the three of them would be arrested. “That doesn’t make any sense. And how did you know how to activate it?”

“I… I had a vision today, it’s why those guards attacked me,” Matthew said softly, lowering his head in shame. Vision or not, he should know better than talk to himself out loud. It would only attract unwanted attention, like it so clearly did today! “The Faerie who gave me my vision nine years ago spoke to me, as if he were a ghost. He told me I must hurry, before the dragon in the Highlands wakes. And then I had an actual vision of the dragon.” He stopped as his vision came flooding back. The dragon, the chain, the cliff they stood on…

“We were there,” he murmured. “The three of us, and Ludwig. Ludwig was beside Feli.”

Feliciano drew a hand to his mouth and Gilbert put a hand on his shoulder, for his sake or Feliciano’s, Matthew was not entirely sure. “He really was with us?” Gilbert murmured. “My brother?”

“Yes.”

“We’re really going to find him,” Gilbert breathed. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“What did he look like?” Feliciano blurted out. “Was he scarred? Did he seem injured? Hurt?”

Matthew paused, and tried his hardest to think back to the few glimpses he saw. He slowly shook his head. “I didn’t see anything, but I wasn’t concentrating on him. Though when the dragon flew past us, he did put an arm around you.”

Feliciano smiled softly, and gave a soft, “Oh.” He composed himself and gestured for Matthew to continue.

“When my vision ended, the Faerie told me I must use magic. He said to summon it, I must let the runes on the staff guide me.” Matthew shook his head. “And I think I figured out what he meant.”

The water shut off in the other room, plunging the three in silence once more. It was almost eerie, partly because they were sitting in the pitch black, and because of their current topic. Fae, magic, dragons. So much, and so sudden. It was a lot to take it, but as Matthew said it out loud, it became rather exciting. He felt like he was getting closer to that unforeseeable future he has been running to for so long.

“This Faerie,” Gilbert murmured. “You’ve never met him in real life?”

“Never.” Matthew thought of the broad Faerie, with his red cape and curly brown hair. He suddenly looked up, and stared right into Feliciano’s amber eyes. They were almost the exact shade as the other Faerie’s. “But he looked a lot like you, Feli. He was a Legatus, he must have been because of the uniform he wore. Did you have any family in the Raetian army?”

Feliciano hesitated. “I’m sorry, Matthew. Maybe he is related to me, but I wouldn’t have any idea if that’s true or not. Lovino is the only blood family I’ve ever known. Antonio found Lovino and me when I was five years-old, days after Raetia’s fall. I remember nothing of my life before that moment. I don’t think that would have anything to do with this quest you’re on, though.”

It could be possible this Fae was Feliciano’s father, or uncle, or perhaps even grandfather, but it didn’t matter, Feliciano was exactly right. Even if he were related to him, it was nothing more than a coincidence. “I suppose.” He narrowed his eyes. “It doesn’t understand why he’s guiding me.”

Feliciano suddenly gasped, and leaned closer to Matthew, his eyes impossibly wide. “Wait! When Fae pass on, they turn into greenery. Flowers, shrubs, patches of sunlight or shadows, or trees! This staff could be taken from a tree a Fae turned into!”

That was… kind of disturbing. “They’re still sentient, after their bodies turn into greenery?”

“I don’t think so, but crazier things have happened!” Feliciano exclaimed.

“But my mother took wood from an oak tree in Avalon,” Matthew pointed out softly. “Not Raetia.”

It was Gilbert’s turn to lean forward, though he was staring at Feliciano instead of Matthew. “Hey, didn’t you say Antonio found you and your brother in Avalon?”

It was just a theory, a crazy one that had its roots in the loosest soil, but it made sense. This Faerie, a Legatus of the Raetian army, who looked very similar to Feliciano and Lovino, had passed in a forest inside Avalon, and Adhan found his tree on accident, and removed one of the branches in order to make this staff for Matthew. The runes along the side of this staff could have awoken the Faerie’s spirit, which is why he was helping Matthew.

Because… because in the long run, King Arthur would need the help of a mythical Faerie Queen. King Arthur would restore peace in Avalon after this battle, and the Faerie Queen would restore peace in Raetia, the obvious home of this former Legatus. That could be why he was helping Matthew, for the future of his home, and all of Esmya. Matthew pressed a hand to his head. Gods, why did it make so much sense?

“I feel like we just cracked some kind of code,” Feliciano murmured.

“Hell yeah, I think we fucking did.” Gilbert grinned. “You need to talk to this Faerie bastard, get some answers from him.”

Matthew agreed full heartedly. “Maybe if I use more of his magic tomorrow, he will visit me. Maybe.”

Gilbert and Feliciano smiled reassuringly, their eyes glowing in the dark room. Matthew smiled back. This was the quest they were on, together as friends. As comrades. Elain was here to find his mate, and he would stay to find a lost queen; Gawain was here to find his brother, to find a king, and to, maybe, become a part of this king’s court; and Merlin was guiding them to a future they could hopefully make it to.

“Let’s hope,” Gilbert said quietly.

They decided to head to bed once their conversation ceased. Elias came from the bathroom with soaking wet hair, which Feliciano fussed over as he dried it with one of the towels. In no time, Elias was asleep on one of the beds, apparently too exhausted to tell Matthew about the adventure with his uncle. Feliciano laid down beside his son after a quick goodnight, and soon enough, gentle, even breathing filled the air. He and Gilbert were the only two awake now.

Gilbert was curled up in the bed, his jacket and shirt discarded at the foot of it. As Matthew slowly laid down beside the alpha, he had an odd sense of déjà vu, when they were forced to stop in an inn during a rainstorm. Matthew told Gilbert about Gawain as they laid in bed, both keeping to the very far edges of their respective sides. This bed was so tiny, their arms were pressed together, and neither one flinched.

“Hey, Birdie.” Gilbert’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

Gilbert shifted, so he was facing Matthew. Matthew swallowed a strange lump in his throat, before he turned his head to the side and met Gilbert’s eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see the bones protruding from Gilbert’s shoulders and collar bone. The blanket hid it, but Matthew knew every one of Gilbert’s ribs were visible. There was the strangest urge inside Matthew to reach over and run his fingers against the bone, to feel the functions of Gilbert’s body, and to guide his hand over smooth skin, because he was undoubtedly sure Gilbert’s body was smooth. He hoped Gilbert could not smell the embarrassment on him from such a strange thought.

“I’m glad I stayed with you.” Gilbert did not smirk. He did not grin or wink or laugh. Instead, he smiled softly. Gently. Feliciano’s words of love rang inside Matthew’s head, and he had no idea why. “Thanks, for taking me on this awesome adventure.” And it could have just been Matthew’s imagination but he swore Gilbert whispered,

“You bring meaning back into my life.”

There was nothing Matthew could possibly say to express the way those words made him feel, so he said nothing. Without even thinking, he reached under the blanket and put his hand on top of Gilbert’s. His heart was pounding, and he had no idea why, but he was… he was happy. He was nervous, and terrified for the future, but excited, and happy, too. And it was thanks to Gilbert.

In the bed beside theirs, Feliciano dug his teeth into his nail to control the giggles threatening to accidentally emerge. He squeezed his eyes shut as a smile pulled across his face. Matthew and Gilbert would figure it out eventually. He just hoped it was soon, because their weird flirting was going to be the death of him.

.

Matthew was more than happy to say goodbye to Berkley the next morning. They left after a quick breakfast that consisted of leftover apple pie. Now they were back in the forest, though, by the looks of it, the forest was thinning out. If the map was anything to go by, they were close to the rolling hills of Avalon, where the great Wye River cut through the land. They should be out of this forest by twilight, and they should make it to the river in three days.

They were making good progress!

It was an hour after noon, the sun tucked behind pale gray clouds, as Matthew slowly led the way through the sparse forest. Feliciano was beside him with his sleeves rolled up and a content smile on his face. “It’s been so pleasant recently,” the Fae remarked. “I’m kind of surprised!”

“Me, too,” Matthew replied honestly. It was peaceful. Even the weather was decent! “It kind of makes you think something bad might happen soon.”

“Shush, don’t think like that!” Feliciano nudged him before skipping ahead, though he almost tripped on a root. “Just enjoy this while we can!”

Gilbert clapped his hands together from where he walked behind them with Elias at his side. “Okay, I think this is a good place to stop!”

“Already?” They hardly ever stopped during the day.

“We had a small breakfast, so I was thinking we could try and hunt a quick lunch.” Gilbert grinned, no shame whatsoever on his face as he said, “I’m starving.”

Elias butted his head against Gilbert’s elbow, who in turn ruffled the boy’s head. “I’m hungry too!”

Matthew shrugged. He was quite hungry. “That’s fine with me. I’ll go get some firewood.” The question was in his eyes as he looked into Gilbert’s. Gilbert seemed to understand, opened his mouth to, hopefully, agree to tag along, but Elias beat him to it.

“I’ll go with you!” In a flash, he was at Matthew’s side, bouncing around with excitement. “Don’t worry, I’ll guard you from all of the dangers in the forest.”

Matthew couldn’t help but laugh, especially since Gilbert looked just a bit confused as he stood there with his mouth gaping open. “Thank you, Elias. You’re more than welcome to come with me.”

“Yay!”

“Well, fine then.” Gilbert dropped his rucksack on the ground and turned around with a small huff. “I’ll go catch some food. Have fun with the boring stuff.”

Feliciano stretched a bit as he took a seat beside Gilbert’s rucksack, and removed the bow and quivers from his back. Matthew tilted his head. “Did you want to come with us?”

“I’m okay. Someone needs to watch our things after all! Here, I’ll hold on to your satchel!”

Matthew removed the satchel from his side and handed it to Feliciano. He almost hesitated. The _Fabula_ was inside… No, it was fine. Feliciano could hold it. Besides, this way the thing wouldn’t accidentally get lost or damaged. With a wave, Matthew and Elias walked away to head deeper into the forest.

The trees were filled with birdsong and the rustling of a warm wind. This weather was so mild and comforting, Matthew was quite surprised by it. He was used to the freezing winters of Glaceria, and mild summers. There was no way Glaceria would have warm days during the winter time, but Avalon was different. It was nice, and it seemed to have put everyone in good spirits.

As they picked up small, dry sticks, Matthew let Elias chat about his skill in archery the night before, and how great of a teacher Gilbert was. It seemed the boy was quickly becoming infatuated with the alpha. Matthew thought Gilbert to be quite good with children. It was adorable seeing the two earlier in the morning, with Gilbert running ahead with Elias on his shoulders as they laughed. He was more than happy to watch the two become closer.

They walked down a little path beside a babbling brook, the trees closing in around them once again. Shadows stretched over the two now thanks to the extra coverage. Elias leant down and plucked a stick from the ground, but put it back down after muttering, “Too wet.” They continued beside the brook, Elias having finished his story. Matthew was just about to ask if they should head back when Elias asked,

“Are you and Gilbert mates?”

Matthew very nearly dropped the sticks in his hand. “Wh-where did this come from?”

“I don’t know.” Elias shrugged as he kicked a stray pebble into the little brook at their side. He didn’t seem to find his question strange at all. “My mom said mates are two people who care a lot for each other. I thought maybe you two were mates, because it’s obvious you guys care a lot about each other.”

Matthew almost breathed out a sigh of relief from the extremely innocent explanation. “I do care a lot about Gilbert, but I also care a lot about your mother, and you. Mates, um.” Matthew was not going to give the best explanation. “Mates love one another, too. I’m sure Feli told you that.”

“He did.” Elias shrugged again. “I just thought you and Gilbert loved each other.”

Matthew’s face flamed, and this time he really did trip. Thanks to the grip on his staff, he righted himself quickly. “Love is a strong word. I don’t love Gilbert, he is my friend. I think those are two different kinds of love, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Elias spun around. He grinned at Matthew as he started walking backwards. “I was just checking to make sure you two weren’t mates, because, I have decided, you and I are going to be mates in the future!”

Laughter burst from Matthew. If his hands hadn’t been full of sticks, he would have ruffled the top of Elias’s head. “Even though I’m a beta?”

“Even though you’re a beta!” Then Elias halted. Abruptly. He looked away from Matthew and sniffed the air, his nose twitching every now and then. His eyes were narrowed, his chest barely moving. The way Elias tilted his head and froze, almost unnaturally so, were strong indicators he was a shapeshifter, one with a good sense of smell.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Do you hear that?” Elias’s voice was barely above a whisper.

He paused, and tried to listen for something, anything. Aside from the quite babble of the brook, the forest was silent. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Yeah.” Elias’s eyes widened as he looked up at Matthew. “I don’t hear anything either. That isn’t… that’s not good.”

A forest, one which had just been filled with the sounds of birds and bugs, now completely silent. This happened before, weeks ago when Matthew and Gilbert slipped underneath an uprooted tree to take shelter from the snow. A stillness fell over that forest too, and a moment later, a Shadow Soldier appeared. Gilbert said the smell from the Shadow Soldier had been unnatural. Sulfur, rot, gore. Matthew felt the blood drain from his face.

“Do you smell anything?” he asked softly, trying to keep the panic from his voice. He was jumping to conclusions.

“Um.” Elias sniffed the air again. “I think it smells like a dead animal. One that hasn’t been cleaned up right.” His eyes widened when he took in Matthew’s appearance. “Is something wrong?”

He was getting Elias worked up. He was the adult here, and Elias, who was an alpha boy with strong senses, would immediately mimic the way he was feeling in a stressful situations. He took a calming breath, and gave the boy a small smile. “No, nothing’s wrong. But let’s start heading back, okay?”

They needed to go, _now_.

Thankfully, Elias smiled a little. “Okay.”

Matthew turned on his heel. He must be overreacting- oh, but what if he wasn’t? That soldier nearly killed Gilbert. A group of Shadow Soldiers burned Gilbert and Feliciano’s village to the ground, and separated them from Ludwig. Those soldiers were bad news. If one were here, in this forest, what would happen to them?

“Matthew.”

Elias’s voice was small, terror etched in the two syllables it took to say the name. Matthew turned around again, and dropped the sticks in his hand. There was a man standing directly behind Elias with a black gloved hand around the boy’s neck. The man was taller than Matthew, and dressed in black, from his shin high boots, to his pants, and to his long sleeved shirt. Over top the shirt was a leather chest piece, with a roaring lion stitched across it, the symbol of Avalon’s king. Leather pieces were also covering his shoulders and his forearms. Black mesh covered his face, everything but his eyes and nose, and his bloodshot blue eyes were ablaze with so much anger. A glistening black _thing_ was wrapped around his neck. It looked like a thick stone collar. The pale skin around the collar was covered in scabs, scratch marks, some of which looked fresh. They were red, and somehow eerier than the collar itself.

The Shadow Soldier was here.

Elias flinched as the man flexed his fingers across his neck. “Give me the book, hand over yourself, and I will not harm the boy, witch.” His voice was deep, slow, and angry.

Matthew shook his head. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, let him go. He’s- he isn’t an apprentice or lackey, he barely has any relation to me. Let him go.”

“I said I will.” Elias gasped as the soldier pressed his thumb against his Adam’s apple. “Once you agree to the conditions I listed.”

Elias whimpered softly, but the man did not let go. Sweat beaded along Matthew’s forehead, and coated his hands. The prophecy or his friends. Himself or Elias- “Okay. Okay!” Matthew was shaking as he took a step forward. “Please, you can have me. Just let him go.”

The man’s eyes narrowed on the staff. Without even thinking, Matthew tossed it to the side. “Please,” he begged again. “A witch is more valuable than a child.”

The hand around Elias’s throat slackened, and the boy rushed forward. He threw his arms around Matthew, his skinny body shaking uncontrollably. “D-don’t! Don’t!”

“Go find your mother,” Matthew hissed softly. “Go, Elias, please. Or he will hurt you. I’ll be okay, but you have to run.”

Elias hiccupped. He turned his head to look at the man again, whose blue eyes were on the boy once more. Matthew did not understand the look in the man’s eyes as he stared at Elias. It was intense, and strange. There was confusion in his gaze. His left eye twitched. Matthew pried Elias’s fingers from his shirt. “Elias, _run_. Find your mother and uncle, and stay with them.”

_‘Please, bring Gilbert here.’_

With tear filled eyes, Elias nodded. He looked back at the man one final time before he raced away, back the way they came. Matthew felt like he could breathe with Elias out of harm’s way. His legs shook slightly as he took in the soldier. He couldn’t outrun this man. He couldn’t fight him. The man prowled forward, his steps moving in time with Matthew’s heartbeat. The man reached for the mesh around his face and pulled it off, and Matthew’s heart plummeted into his stomach. It couldn’t be…

A strong, masculine face, with a sharp jaw, and a pointed nose. Slicked back blond hair, revealing icy blue, bloodshot eyes, with deep purple circles beneath them. Dark eyebrows furrowed, thin lips stretched into a scowl, and a scar along his chin. He was angrier, older, and scarier, but this… this was the same man Matthew saw from the past.

Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt. Feliciano’s mate, Gilbert’s brother, and, by the gods, _the father of the boy he probably just traumatized_. Matthew was going to vomit.

“I am not in the mood to fight you,” _Ludwig_ growled. “So.” His hand was like a snake, quick and frightening, and it curled around Matthew’s neck. He gagged, barely processing the feeling of the ground disappearing beneath his feet as he was lifted into the air. “You’re going to answer every single gods damn question I have before you are dragged back to Camelot. Do you understand, witch?”

Matthew choked. His fingers dug into the leather protecting Ludwig’s forearms, trying to do something in order to breathe again, but the movement only made the hand at his neck tighten. He coughed as whispered, “Ludwig. Ludwig, I’m not your enemy.”

The wrath on Ludwig’s face would forever haunt Matthew’s dreams. It was not natural. He cried out when the hand tightened further, and then again when a fist like iron slammed into his stomach. He couldn’t catch his breath, he couldn’t breathe. “I _can_ pull every answer from you right here,” Ludwig said quietly. It was scarier than his growl. “Every answer, one for each bone I twist. Do you understand, witch?”

Matthew could only mouth the word ‘yes’, not a sound came out. His windpipe was going to be crushed.

“Good.” Black spots danced around Matthew’s vision as his lungs grew unbearably tight. “I’m going to put you down, and you are _never going to call me that name again_, and you are going to answer my questions. Is that clear?”

Matthew could not muster a reply, and that seemed to further enrage Ludwig, because this time when his neck was squeezed, _claws_ dug into his skin. “Answer-”

The grip around Matthew’s neck slackened as Ludwig stopped talking. And then, he was dropped completely. Matthew cried in agony as he landed on his knees. The pain from his left knee was unbearable, like it had been dropped in a fire. He coughed, gasped, and spluttered as he desperately tried to fight for his breath at Ludwig’s feet. Gods, oh gods. How could one man be so strong? And why the hell had he let Matthew go?

The answer was painfully clear when a small voice whispered behind him. “Ludwig?”

No. No, no, no. Matthew slowly looked over his shoulder. Feliciano stood a distance behind him, with a heaving chest, as if he had run the entire way here. He was close enough that Matthew could see the confusion on his face, and the bow in his grip. His eyes were wide, and his mouth opened and closed as he took in the alpha that was his mate. “Ludwig.”

“F-Feli-Feliciano.”

The word was slow and uncertain, almost like it was a physical effort for Ludwig to say it. He took one step back. Matthew blinked up at him. He knew he should run, but he had no energy to do so. Ludwig’s eyes were wide, but his lips were curled in the beginnings of a snarl.

Feliciano slowly shook his head as he took a few steps forward. He was not smiling, rather he looked close to tears. “What… I-I don’t understand. Why are you… Oh, goddess. Ludwig.” His voice was so small. Here, moving toward the mate, who very clearly was not okay, with not an ounce of hesitation, he looked unbearably small. “Ludwig. Why… are you looking at me like that?”

“Y-you…” Ludwig brought a hand to his face. “Y-you’re al-alive.”

Why did he speak so brokenly now? His words were clear and whole as he spoke to Matthew mere seconds ago.

Then, almost unexpectedly, a purple color exploded from the collar and traveled along Ludwig’s body. The alpha hunched over as a shout of pain came from him, almost as if that color was hurting him. Matthew could feel the heat emanating from it. It was either… burning him or electrocuting him.

The collar stopped glowing. Ludwig’s hands slid along his knees, his breathing now labored. “_You. Siren_.” Feliciano stopped walking. Matthew’s eyes widened as Ludwig straightened, his eyes staring right across the way at Feliciano, his _mate_. A tear fell from his eye. It did not match his snarling, horrible words.

_“I am going to kill you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore cliffhangers.
> 
> Some notes:
> 
> -Elecampane: According to my German medievalist professor, this was an herb people used to clean their teeth in medieval times. They just rub it against their teeth to whiten their smiles and cleanse their breath. I added it here because hygiene is a MUST for me in fantasy.
> 
> -Legatus: Title given to generals of Ancient Roman armies. Their outfits consist of what this particular Faerie Legatus in my story wears! Can you guess who he is? :D
> 
> -Seelie and Unseelie Fae: According to Scottish folklore, the Seelie Fae are a court made up of Fae who practice "light magic", while the Unseelie Fae are made up of Fae who practice "dark magic". Do keep in mind, this does not mean the Seelie Fae are "good" and the Unseelie Fae are "bad". In my story, the different courts of Fae will become much more important in part 3, so stay tuned!
> 
> -Sulfur: Smell indicating a demonic presence/possession.


	12. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, my school decided to move completely online, and while I'm quite bummed about that, it means more writing for me, since I only like to write in the comforts of my home ^^
> 
> Vincenthollik on instagram drew [Feli and Lud](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9TW4NDpeeT/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and [Matt and Gil](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9TX0p0JVmQ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) from my fic! Please, give them a like!
> 
> Bogbees also drew more art [here](https://bogbees.tumblr.com/post/612483623546945536/noveltea-lolita-you-own-my-soul-now-happy-now-i) and [here](https://bogbees.tumblr.com/post/612686078030315520/so-tash-what-did-you-do-all-weekend-i-uh)! Check them out, too, they're awesome! 
> 
> If I may suggest a particular song during the later scene when Matthew, Feli, and Gil are working together: [Nexus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZpKJdGS7hHM) from the "Promare" soundtrack.

The hateful words spat by Ludwig chilled Matthew’s bones. They crawled along his skin like spiders, and bit him hard enough to draw blood. Kneeling at Ludwig’s boots, his left knee still bent and pressed into the ground, he had the perfect view of his face, at the rage and hate, and the tear that stained his cheek, and it was all directed at Feliciano.

A sharp, painful breath, almost too quiet to be heard, sounded behind Matthew, quickly followed by a quiet whimper. “What?” Feliciano murmured. “Ludwig- Ludwig, don’t you… recognize me?”

“_How_ could I forget?” Ludwig snarled. His hand traveled behind him, to the hilt of a huge sword at his back. “Every single night, I am constantly mocked by you, and I have _had it_. I am going to make sure you suffer for everything you’ve done!”

His words, thick with an accent identical to Gilbert’s, held promise to torture, just like the threats he gave Matthew moments ago. But they were eerier this time, because this time they were directed at Feliciano, his mate. Matthew did not dare turn his head to look at Feliciano, not when Ludwig turned his boot to walk around him. His gloved hand wrapped around the sword’s hilt at his back, but he did not pull it out. He just gripped the handle.

Ludwig was going to kill Feliciano.

“No!” The breathless scream exploded from Matthew before he could even think about what he was doing. He dropped to his side to keep the pressure off of his knee, and gripped Ludwig’s pants’ leg with a desperate hand. “Don’t hurt him! I’m the witch, the one you’re after! You can’t- That’s Feliciano, you’re mate!”

Ludwig’s head turned to the side, his sharp eyes pointed down to peer at Matthew. His hand was still on the hilt of his sword, it was still sheathed at his back. Why he hadn’t unsheathed it, Matthew did not know, but he was grateful for whatever the reason was. He gazed past Ludwig’s leg to look at Feliciano.

The Faerie’s eyes were wide, his face drained of all color, as he stared at Ludwig. Very slowly, his eyes dropped to Matthew, and he shook his head. Matthew needed to him time to run. Elias must have run into his mother first, who didn’t wait for Gilbert, who ran to Matthew because he was in trouble. Even though he wasn’t a fighter, even though he used to cry when he hunted animals, and even though he and Matthew were barely friends, he still ran for him. It was too much for Matthew to take; Feliciano _had_ to get out of here.

Slowly, Feliciano started to slink away. Matthew could breathe again. Feliciano was running. “I’m the one you’re after,” he continued, blinking at Ludwig’s sharp, narrowed eye. “Leave my friend alone, and take me, the witch.”

“You believe me to be foolish?” Ludwig murmured, turning his back on Feliciano. With unnatural speed, he leant down and grabbed a fistful of Matthew’s hair. A cry left him as he was yanked from the ground by his hair alone, with his knees bent and his feet dragging along the dirt. He gripped Ludwig’s arm unconsciously, causing the alpha to roughly shake him. “I haven’t forgotten about you, but since it seems you wish to be dealt with, I have no qualms about getting started.”

Matthew gasped as one of his arms was swiftly grabbed by Ludwig’s free hand, and _twisted_. Pain shredded through his body, hot and angry. His arm was going to be broken. He attempted to kick, but that only caused Ludwig’s grip on his arm to tighten.

“Stay out of this,” Ludwig said slowly, quietly. He was scary when he snarled, but he was petrifying when he whispered. “Keep your mouth shut, and stay on the ground.”

He twisted Matthew’s arm again, putting strain on the _bone_, soliciting a scream from him. Tears welled in his eyes as Ludwig yanked his hair harder, no doubt pulling pieces of it from his scalp. And then, Ludwig slammed him into the ground, right on his knees. At first, he felt nothing, until white, hot, burning pain exploded from his left knee and burst throughout the rest of his lower body. He screamed again as a sob lodged itself in his throat. His knee was at its limit.

Ludwig stood over him, like a menacing shadow. His hateful eyes burned into Matthew’s as his fingers curled at his sides, and through Matthew’s pain induced brain, he wondered if Ludwig were imagining what it would be like to choke him, to break him completely.

Matthew’s hair was grabbed again, keeping him still as Ludwig cocked his arm back. As his fist flew through the air, Matthew prayed to the gods that Gilbert would not come to his rescue, so he wouldn’t have to see the monster his little brother had become.

“_Don’t_!” Feliciano’s shout rang through the forest, followed by a loud _thump_. Ludwig’s fist did not land, he froze mid-swing. Slowly, he turned around. Feliciano was standing behind him with Matthew’s staff gripped in his hands. His chest was heaving, and tears decorated his cheeks, but his eyes were narrowed, his feet were planted, and the staff was slightly raised. “Don’t hurt him.”

Ludwig did not let Matthew go. He turned his body to the side, practically dragging Matthew with him. More pain exploded from his knee, and he was unable to keep his cry of pain inside.

“You,” Ludwig murmured. “You hit me.”

Feliciano raised the staff higher. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “But I think I have to. Ludwig, let Matthew go. Let him go, Ludwig. Let Matthew go and do not hurt him.”

The fist unfurled, and Matthew slumped to the ground. He pressed his chest against the earth, gasping and shaking from the fear, and the unbearable pain. He was not sure he could stand up with his knee in the shape it was in, but he could look up. He could look at his selfless friend wielding the staff like a weapon.

“Feli,” he gasped out. “Run!”

Ludwig almost looked confused as he stared at Feliciano. “You, siren, do not give me orders.”

“I’m not.” Feliciano’s eyes widened just a bit, giving way to the obvious distress within him. “Ludwig. Listen to me. Listen to your mate.”

“I. I have _no_ mate-”

“Yes,” Feliciano gasped, taking a step closer to Ludwig. There was no response to the movement. “Yes, you do, because you have me. You don’t remember, something is wrong, but I am going to make you remember, Ludwig. Please, Ludwig. Remember me, I’m Feliciano.”

Ludwig’s eye twitched. “Fe-Feliciano.” His voice was softening.

“Yes!” Feliciano gasped again. “Feliciano Beilschmidt, your mate! I’m your mate, Ludwig. Remember when you asked me to be your mate, in the field of wildflowers? You gave me an edelweiss that you climbed a mountain for.”

“Y-yes…” Ludwig sounded uncertain, but he did not move. He did not raise a fist, he did not growl, and he did not spit. “Y-you gave me… the bl-black ring.”

Matthew had no idea what was going on, but, somehow, Feliciano was calming Ludwig down. It happened earlier, when Ludwig first saw the Fae. He dropped Matthew and began stuttering, like he had been trying so hard to speak, to remember. Did that mean the violent Ludwig, the one who was hateful and angry, was not the “real” one?” Matthew’s eyes fell to the stone collar around his neck.

“That’s right, I gave you a black ring,” Feliciano murmured. “And you gave me a gold one, see? It’s on my finger.” Slowly, he began to lower the oak staff. Ludwig still did not move. “This, this is not you, Ludwig. You do not hurt others, you protect them. You are gentle and good, remember?” The breath caught in Feliciano’s throat as he whispered, “You are my gentle Ludwig.”

“Y-yours.” Ludwig’s knees started to shake. “Yours.”

“And.” A soft smile began to spread along Feliciano’s face. “I am yours.”

“M-mine…” Ludwig blinked. Slowly, so very slowly, he started to lift a hand. Matthew attempted to crawl forward, to get Ludwig’s attention back on him and away from Feliciano, but the hand had already landed. Matthew froze. Ludwig’s hand cupped Feliciano’s cheek, the touch so soft it looked more like it was hovering over the skin. He was not striking violently. He was caressing.

“M-my Feliciano.” Ludwig’s voice was barely a whisper.

Feliciano gasped softly, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. Quickly, he recovered, and pressed his cheek into Ludwig’s touch. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, yes. I’m yours, Ludwig. It’s okay! I-I’m going too… oh, gods. You’re alive. You’re… I can’t take- Can I hug you? Please, Ludwig, I’ve missed you so much.”

Ludwig did not reply immediately, he just stood there, stroking Feliciano’s cheek. It was like Feliciano had tamed whatever monster was lurking within Ludwig just by speaking. The Green Knight’s words rang within Matthew’s head: “_Entrust the light of Merlin and the heart of Elain_.”

The heart of Feliciano. That’s what freeing Ludwig was going to take. Matthew loosed a breath of relief. Thank the gods.

Then Ludwig stiffened. Then the hand on Feliciano’s cheek slid into his hair. And then Ludwig’s soft voice was replaced by a guttural snarl, “I would be careful of what you ask.”

Ludwig’s other hand wrapped around Feliciano’s neck, and slammed him right into the ground.

…

Gilbert knew something was wrong the moment he heard Kuma roar. He almost dropped his bow when he saw the dire bear crashing through the forest, his jaws parted in the beginnings of another roar.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Gilbert leapt from his position on top of a jagged boulder, the rabbit he was hunting having long since fled from the noises Kuma was making. He dashed in front of Kuma, ignoring his instincts telling him that was a horrible idea, and waved his hands around. “Kuma, hey! Calm down!”

Kuma, thankfully, skidded to a halt in front of Gilbert, but did not stop the next roar he unleashed. Gilbert did not flinch, he knew better than to show weakness in front of a predator, even if said predator was Matthew’s familiar. This was unusual, never before had he seen Kuma this upset. After they left Berkley, Matthew said Kuma was following them a distance away, and when Gilbert asked how he knew this, he was told witches and familiars always know where the other is.

“Kuma, bud, what’s wrong?” Gilbert asked. He didn’t reach out to pet the bear, since he wanted to keep his arm, but he wanted to try and calm Kuma down. “Why the hell are you so-”

_“Remember, you don’t need to start worrying unless Kuma starts getting agitated since he can sense when I’m hurt.”_

Those were the words Matthew left Gilbert with before they parted ways in the Orlon Forest. Witches and familiars knew when the other was hurt, too. Something cold washed over Gilbert. His cheeks flushed as his heart began to pound in slight terror. Matthew was with Elias, gathering firewood. It was a harmless task, they were fine! He stared at Kuma as his vision began to blur.

Kuma never acted like this before; in fact, the only noises Gilbert ever heard from him were grunts and sighs. This was completely new. And if it weren’t Matthew, what else could it be? Slowly, Gilbert stepped away. “Where were you running to?”

“_Gilbert_!” Gilbert spun around at the breathless cry. Elias was running to him. Elias’s scent was spiked with fear, and it was quite apparent from his appearance. His eyes were wide and tear-filled, and his knees were shaking almost uncontrollably. Immediately, Gilbert was on guard as he knelt to the ground to hold his nephew.

“Hey, kid. It’s okay.” He was probably lying. “Tell me.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Gilbert, you need- Matthew! Matthew!” Elias broke off with a cry. He pointed into the forest behind him, where he just came from. “Th-there’s a man in black, and he- he’s going to hurt Matthew.” Gilbert’s heart leapt into his throat. “I-I told Mom, and he- he ran after them, and I’m really scared. I’m scared that man is going to hurt them.”

Elias’s scent spiked further, the pine and moss turning sour with fear. Gilbert caught himself before he could fall into a panic, he needed to be strong right now. He stood up, swallowed the unease inside of him, and gently patted the top of Elias’s head. “You did well coming to find me. It was the right choice. Stay in the place we stopped in, okay? I’m going to make sure nothing happens to Matthew, and your mother.”

Elias hiccupped. “Y-you will?”

“Course I will.” He flashed the boy the best smirk he was capable of right now. “It’s an alpha’s job to take care of their pack.”

Kuma roared once again, and took off running. Gilbert did not wait any longer, he raced behind the dire bear, his heart moving as quickly as his legs. A man in black could mean many things in the long run, but for Gilbert, it meant one thing: Shadow Soldiers. The very men who surrounded his father’s house and tied him to a stake in order to burn him, who threw his stepmother on top of a horse, and who chased Gilbert and Ludwig through the forest for an entire day. For a moment, Gilbert was ten years old again, gripping a five year-old Ludwig’s hand as they crashed through the forest beyond their father’s cottage, with heaving lungs and teary eyes. They just witnessed their father catch fire, and their stepmother, the only true mother they had ever known, be snatched away. Why? Just because they were shapeshifters? Gilbert did not know.

Then he was in the mountains, older and stronger, but not strong enough to defend his family. Feliciano was gasping behind him as they ran from their smoldering village. They just watched a sword impale Ludwig, and believed him to be dead. Once again, the Shadow Soldiers were responsible. They were looking for soldiers for Avalon’s army, soldiers to become like _them_. 

And then, he was underneath an uprooted tree, with his hand over Matthew’s mouth. The stench of terror filled the small space, all of coming from Matthew as they watched one lone Shadow Soldier sniff the air for them. Then, Gilbert ran from Matthew, to protect him, and by some miracle, he had done so successfully, even if he had fallen into a frozen lake and nearly died. He protected Matthew. And he would do so again. Again, and again, and again. He would protect Matthew, and Feliciano, and Elias, his pack, from every Shadow Soldier. From every gods damn threat that came their way.

Kuma led Gilbert through the forest, until the trees became denser, and the shadows grew closer. The faint sound of a brook trickled into Gilbert’s ears, but that wasn’t important right now. Nothing was, except for the sight before him, of Matthew on the ground, struggling to stand, only to collapse and try again, of Feliciano being lifted from the forest floor by the neck, and of… of… Ludwig, his baby brother, choking his mate.

Gilbert did not stop running.

…

Feliciano knew he should have swung for the back of Ludwig’s head, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, because that could have hurt Ludwig really badly, and he remembered, a long time ago when Ludwig was teaching him how to fight, Ludwig said that hitting the back of someone’s head was playing dirty and they should only do it when necessary. It should have been obvious now was a necessary time, but Feliciano couldn’t. He had swung for Ludwig’s back instead.

And now he was being choked. Stars were dancing in his vision as Ludwig lifted him from the ground he just slammed him against. He gasped for air, but the noise was silenced by the strong grip at his throat. He swung his legs desperately, as they tried to find purchase, and he was able to make contact with Ludwig’s hip, but he didn’t even flinch. He just squeezed Feliciano’s neck tighter.

Feliciano did not want to look at Ludwig, not with his beloved in such a state- no. This, whoever this person was, it was not Ludwig. This lust for inflicting pain on others did not belong to his mate. He opened his mouth to cry when Ludwig’s grip became crushing. He couldn’t breathe.

“Lud-Ludwig,” he gasped. “_Please_.”

Please, remember like earlier. Please, let go. Please, don’t do this. Feliciano’s eyes widened further when he saw what looked to be a tear fall from Ludwig’s eye. Then another. He struggled further, because he needed to _breathe_-

Someone barreled right into Ludwig with such force, they all fell to the ground. Feliciano cried out as he landed, but Ludwig’s hand was released from his neck. He coughed as he quickly straightened, but froze when he heard a deafening roar from behind him. Kuma was crouching over Matthew with his lips pulled back in a snarl, and his beady eyes trained on Ludwig.

Ludwig, who was on the ground with Gilbert scrambling off of him. If Gilbert was startled by the events taking place, he did not show it. Instead, he moved quickly from the ground and raced for Feliciano’s side, and pulled him to shaky legs.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” Feliciano whispered, pressing a hand to his neck. Would it bruise? He flinched when Kuma roared again, and crouched even lower, like he was going to fling himself at Ludwig. Feliciano’s heart jumped. “N-no! Don’t hurt him!”

“Kuma!” Matthew shouted. “Down! Do not attack him! You’re going to kill him if you do.”

Thankfully, Kuma did not leap like he was about to, but he did not move from his position above Matthew. Good, it gave them one less thing to worry about. Ludwig snarled as he started to push himself into a kneeling position, but then he just froze. Gilbert tensed, but Feliciano held his breath. Ludwig’s behavior was not making sense. It was almost like he was fighting with something, but what was it? Who was the enemy?

“F-Fe-Feliciano,” Ludwig gasped out, his head hanging low. He groaned softly and ran a hand through his hair, harshly pulling at the strands. Feliciano brought a hand to his mouth. Ludwig was hurting himself. “Gi-Gilbert.” His head suddenly snapped up, eyes wide and desperate. There it was, this was the real Ludwig. He was there, hidden beneath _something_. “_RUN_.”

The collar at his neck started to glow again, and that same purple substance coated his body. Ludwig’s eyes closed as a shout of pain came from him, as the collar hurt him. Feliciano cried out too, because this was killing him. Gilbert cursed. “What… what’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Feliciano whispered. “I don’t, but- but Ludwig is in trouble. It’s like-like something is inside of him, and the real him is trying to get out.”

“The collar!” Matthew shouted weakly. “I think the collar is controlling him!”

Oh, goddess. Ludwig stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with that previous hatred and resentment. “Whorish siren,” he spat, and Feliciano flinched. “How would you like your precious mate to kill you?”

Feliciano wanted to cover his ears. This was not Ludwig, he reminded himself. Ludwig was the one telling him to run. He was fighting this. Whether or not he was winning, Feliciano did not know. Gilbert grabbed his arm and started to thrust him back. “Take Matthew and get out of here. I’ll distract him!”

“No!” Feliciano yanked himself free of the grip, and bent his knees. In front of them, Ludwig reached for the hilt of his sword, but just like last time, he did not unsheathe it. His teeth were gritted, sweat beaded along his forehead, and his eyes were narrowed into slits. Something was restraining him from unsheathing the blade. “Look at him, Gilbert! He’s fighting something inside of him, and if he’s fighting it, then so will I. I vowed that if he were trapped, I would free him, and I am not about to go back on that vow when he needs me.”

Gilbert was staring at him, he could feel it. “Feli-”

“Don’t worry about me!” Feliciano shouted, his eyes never leaving Ludwig. “Ludwig needs us right now, and I’ll be damned if I’m not there to save him.” Ludwig was standing up again. “He remembered me, if only for a moment. He said our names just now, too. He’s struggling inside, and I think Matthew’s right, that collar is controlling him. We need to get it off.”

Gilbert swore again. “We’ll need to get close to him.”

“I know.” Feliciano took a deep breath, remembering every moment he could that involved Ludwig in his life. From the time a nameless shapeshifting alpha saved him on the road outside of Versteckt, to the time they mated with hesitant hands and bold lips. His life had not started until he met Ludwig, and when he thought Ludwig dead, he thought his life to be over before Elias arrived. Now he was here, alive, hurting and in distress, but alive. “But I’m not afraid of my mate.”

With a snarl, Ludwig charged them, too quick to be natural. Feliciano and Gilbert barely had time to leap away from the attack, but Ludwig was quicker. He grabbed the back of Gilbert’s shirt and dragged him close. Matthew shouted a warning, but it seemed Gilbert did not need one. He twisted himself in Ludwig’s grip, an arrow from his quiver clutched in his hand, and slashed it across Ludwig’s cheek.

“Long time no see, Luddy.” Gilbert grinned. “I know you’re in there, runt, and you’re gonna come on out, even if I have to fight you until midnight, you’re coming out. Don’t you remember? All those delicious strudels you used to make for me in Versteckt? Those were the best! Wake up so you can make more for me!”

“You, I can kill without questions,” Ludwig growled. “I have no need for you.”

Feliciano leapt for the discarded staff again, and gripped it tight. It was so warm against his hands, as he lowered his body and ran with the speed of Fae to Ludwig and Gilbert. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then he swung it, aimed for Ludwig’s temple, but Ludwig’s free hand shot up and caught the end of the staff before it could land. His eyes narrowed on Feliciano. He practically threw Gilbert over his shoulder, and then pulled the staff closer to him, yanking Feliciano forward.

Feliciano yelped as he was quickly surrounded by Ludwig’s arms. Before he could even react, Ludwig slammed his fist right into Feliciano’s face. Feliciano may have gasped, he may have screamed, it was hard to tell with the blood roaring in his ears. He could feel blood seeping into his mouth as it poured freely from his nose, choking him for a moment. Desperately, he tried to push himself away from Ludwig, but there was a hand on his side, and there were _claws_ digging into of his hip and he was not sure he could move, and his mate was _hurting him_.

Gilbert sprang from behind Ludwig and wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck, and his legs around his waist. “Let him go!” Gilbert snarled. “I taught you better than to hit a fucking omega, much less your mate!” Ludwig did not let go of Feliciano’s side, but he did attempt to push Gilbert’s arms from him. Gilbert did not yield, instead he tightened his grip around Ludwig’s neck, putting him in a choke hold.

“You would never hurt Feliciano!” Gilbert continued, grunting as he arched his back. “Never, not in a million years! I taught you to be kind and good to omegas, to treat them with some gods damn respect. You hitting him is making me look like a shit older brother, and I am _not_ having that in front of Birdie, do you hear me? Now let him go and face me like a proper alpha!”

The claws clinging to Feliciano’s hip slowly began to subside, but there was already blood dripping from the wound, Feliciano could feel it. He shoved himself out of Ludwig’s grip, stumbling as he landed on the ground. He tentatively touched his nose. Ludwig punched him. He gritted his teeth, and wiped the golden blood from it. He could worry about it later.

Gilbert’s arms disappeared from the hold on Ludwig’s neck. His hands wrapped around the collar, and Feliciano watched the anger on Ludwig’s face dissolve into pure wrath. Gilbert gritted his fangs as he pulled at the collar, but it didn’t seem to budge. “The damn thing isn’t coming off!”

“Gilbert, get off!” Feliciano cried, scrambling from the ground. “He’s going to shift!”

Too late. Ludwig’s body began glowing, until a huge black dire wolf stood in his place. The collar was still on him; it had expanded in size to accommodate the thicker neck of a dire wolf. Gilbert dug his heels into Ludwig’s sides as if he were a horse, and continued to grip the collar. “Ludwig, fuck! Calm down, we’re trying to help you!”

Feliciano could do nothing but watch in horror as Ludwig fell to his side, possibly crushing Gilbert’s right leg. Immediately, he stood back up, with Gilbert on the ground. His huge fangs sank into Gilbert’s arm, and then tossed him through the air. With a shout of pain, Gilbert landed right beside Matthew and Kuma.

Feliciano could not take much more of this. Without thinking, he ran for Ludwig. The alpha swung his head around. His lips curled back, revealing glistening fangs dyed scarlet from Gilbert’s blood. Feliciano did not stop. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig and gripped the collar. It was freezing to the touch, and uncomfortably smooth, but he dug his nails into it anyway to hold his ground.

Ludwig snarled. Feliciano refused to think that with just one snap of his fangs, Ludwig could end Feliciano’s life. He pushed his forehead against Ludwig’s, and stared right into his eyes. They were the same shade as they were in his human form, blue and icy.

“Listen to me,” Feliciano growled. Ludwig swung his head, but it was not as hard as it could it have been. He gnashed his fangs together, but it was not as violent as it could have been. “Listen to me, Ludwig!”

Ludwig snarled again, his breath hot against Feliciano, but still Feliciano refused to yield. He pressed his heels into the dirt. Ludwig was like a warm, brick wall. He was large and strong in his wolf form, Feliciano had seen him fight in it too. But he was not scared of it. This was another part of Ludwig, one that made the Fae in the Orlon Forest scorn and sneer; even though this part of Ludwig was just as beautiful as his human form. Feliciano loves it all the same.

Feliciano pressed his forehead to Ludwig’s, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “This is not who you are. You do not hurt Gilbert, or me. It’s okay, I’m not angry or scared or anything like that. I’m just sad, and desperate. Please.” Ludwig did not move, he just growled softly. Feliciano removed one hand from the collar, and brushed it down Ludwig’s neck. “Please. You have to come back to me. Come back, Ludwig. Come back to me. You still haven’t met your son.”

“Feliciano,” Gilbert hissed from somewhere behind them. Thank the goddess he was okay. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

Suddenly, Ludwig swiveled his head around and snarled something fierce in Gilbert’s direction. Gilbert gritted his teeth. “Stop,” Matthew hissed. “Somehow, Feli is calming him down. Let him!”

Slowly, Ludwig turned his head back to face Feliciano, and Feliciano greeted him with open arms. A small noise rumbled within Ludwig’s throat, but it was not an angry sound. Ludwig pressed his head against Feliciano’s chest, and the breath caught in Feliciano’s throat. “Oh,” he whispered. “Oh, Ludwig.” He could not stop the tears that inevitably fell from his eyes. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

He brushed a hesitant hand across Ludwig’s ear, and then across the back of his head. Ludwig did not flinch or growl, he just stood there, as docile as a tamed dog. Feliciano’s heart was breaking, or it was healing. He couldn’t tell. He just knew he was here with Ludwig, and while this nightmare was far from over, it was okay for now.

Ludwig stiffened. Feliciano blinked. “Ludwig?” The wolf’s head was gone from his chest, and then the wolf was gone altogether. Ludwig was back in his human form.

“Feliciano!” Ludwig’s eyes were wide as he gripped Feliciano’s shoulders, but it did not hurt. He leant closer. “Feliciano, I am trying- trying to get this _daemon_ to submit, but it won’t… Gods damnit, run. Run, please, you have to run before I hurt you!”

Ludwig. His mate. He was talking to his mate. Feliciano shook his head and pressed his hands to Ludwig’s cheeks, his own eyes wide and tear filled. “What daemon? Ludwig, tell me. How do we get this collar off of you?”

Ludwig tried to back away, but Feliciano held fast. “I don’t- Gods, Feliciano, _hurry up and run_!” The collar began to glow, and that purple glow oozed from it and took over Ludwig’s body again, only this time it grabbed a hold of Feliciano’s body too.

It was like someone pressed one thousand needles into Feliciano’s skin, pushing past the tendons and muscles until they were scrapping his bones. There were images in his head, too, grotesque scenes that made his stomach gurgle with fear. They were all of him. One where he was alive and hanging from a tree by a noose, another where he was being assaulted, and another where vultures were tearing the rotting flesh from his bones. Each scene that flew by was worse than the last. Feliciano did not know when he started screaming, nor did he know when Ludwig, too, started screaming, but they both were. This… this torture is what his mate was going through? Every time that collar glowed, this is what happened to him?

The pain ceased, and Feliciano was falling to his knees. Ludwig stumbled away from him, holding a hand over his face. He was groaning in pain. Feliciano gasped, and tried to stand, but he couldn’t. He was shaking too terribly. “G-Gil,” he gasped. “Gil, that collar is hurting him.”

Gilbert was there, at his side, hauling him to his feet. “I don’t know how to get it off!” he shouted. “It’s stuck on there, and there’s no lock or snap to get it loose. If it’s hurting him, it could have some kind of magic code to it. Maybe?”

Even though Gilbert didn’t sound certain, it might be the most logical explanation they could find at the moment. Feliciano’s eyes rested back on Ludwig, and the images that raced through him earlier came back. Such violent footage. Is that what Ludwig was being shown? He swallowed a growing lump in his throat. “Oh, Ludwig…”

Ludwig’s body swung lazily to the side as he righted himself. His hand dropped from his face, and Feliciano forced himself to hold back a whimper. Ludwig’s lips were stretched into a deranged grin, his eyes were wide and filled with mirth, and stray pieces of blond hair fell messily against his forehead. It didn’t look like there was anything left of his Ludwig.

“_Scheiße_,” Gilbert whispered. “_Bruder, bitte. Komm bitte zurück._”

Then a small tear fell from Ludwig’s eye again. The good part of him, the part that was _Ludwig_, was trying so hard to get out and overcome this creature; that’s why small tears continued to fall from his eyes. That had to be it. Something hot exploded in Feliciano’s chest. Rage, raw and unfamiliar, swirled within him, so similar to the night nine years ago as he watched Ludwig fight off those Shadow Soldiers. His mate was hurting.

Feliciano glanced at Gilbert’s hips, where his hunting daggers rested. He dove for one of them and unsheathed it quickly, and wasted no time running for Ludwig. Gilbert shouted for him to stop, to come back, and Matthew was screaming, “no” but Feliciano did not listen. He was going to pry the damn collar off if he had to.

Ludwig did not move from his spot, even with Feliciano mere inches from him. Feliciano pushed the hunting dagger forward, and that’s when Ludwig moved. He was fast as he feinted to the left, right out of the dagger’s way, and then, in a blur of black, he slammed his fist against Feliciano’s stomach, knocking the breath right from him. There was motion behind Ludwig as Gilbert propelled himself forward, but Ludwig lowered himself just slightly and swung his arm out right as Gilbert was too close to stop. Somehow, as if Gilbert weighed absolutely nothing, Ludwig moved his arm in a circular motion with Gilbert’s stomach still pressed directly against his forearm, and flipped Gilbert over, making him land directly on his upper back.

Gilbert didn’t have any time to soak in the pain, because Ludwig was moving again, and this time he was reaching for his sword. He was going to kill Gilbert, he said he would. Feliciano dropped the dagger and sprang on Ludwig’s back, and wrapped his legs around his waist, and grabbed the hilt of his sword for purchase.

“Stop! Stop!” Feliciano pleaded. “Ludwig, don’t do-”

He broke off when Ludwig snarled, and grabbed the hilt of his sword, his hand gripped tightly over Feliciano’s own. His speed and strength was effortless. With a squeak from Feliciano, Ludwig pulled the blade from its sheath and slammed the hilt of it right against Feliciano’s chin. The force of it caused white spots to erupt across his eyes, and it allowed his grip around Ludwig’s waist to slacken. Suddenly, the hand around the hilt of the sword was around his throat, and then he was torn from Ludwig’s back and flipped _over_ Ludwig’s head. He was flung right on top of Gilbert, with their heads smacking together.

Feliciano groaned as tears of pain gathered in his eyes. There was a ringing in his ears, so loud he could barely hear Gilbert panting beneath him. What his Fae hearing could gather, however, were the vibrations against the ground as Ludwig stalked closer. They needed to get up before he unsheathed his blade.

“Get… get up, Gil,” he whispered as he rolled off of the alpha, with his ears still ringing and his head still pounding. Gilbert grunted, but did as he was told. He leant a hand to Feliciano. When Feliciano stood, the world tilted. He gritted his teeth, forcing everything to still. They weren’t done here.

“He’s beating the shit out of us,” Gilbert hissed. “We need a plan. Or at the very least, we need to lead him away from Matthew.”

“I know.” Feliciano narrowed his eyes in concentration as Ludwig stalked forward. He couldn’t think, his mind was at a complete standstill. His heart stopped when Ludwig reached behind him again and gripped the hilt of his sword, only this time he pulled it free. The sword was huge.

“A Zweihänder.” Gilbert’s words were hushed. “One slice from that by someone as strong as Ludwig, and we’re dead.”

Even though the words were quiet, Ludwig still heard them. “You’re dead,” he growled with eyes on Gilbert. Then they flicked to Feliciano. “But not you. I’m going to enjoy hurting you.”

Feliciano didn’t want to hear anymore. He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes again, only this time they were caused by a different sort of pain. It shredded him, deeper than any sword could ever be capable of. Gilbert shoved him back with a snarl. The other dagger was in his hands.

“You aren’t laying another hand on him! You wanna kill me? Then fight me first!”

“Gil, don’t,” Feliciano whispered shakily.

Ludwig snarled, and charged. Gilbert snarled right back and met him head on. He swung the long hunting dagger in front of him as Ludwig struck with his sword. Gilbert grunted as the weapons met. It didn’t take an expert to see a mere hunting dagger had no chance against a Zweihänder. Despite the odds, Gilbert did not yield, even as his legs shook. Feliciano needed to do something. He needed to distract Ludwig so Gilbert could get him on the ground.

But there was no time for him to do anything. With a shout and a flick of his wrist, Ludwig knocked the dagger from Gilbert’s grip. He swung his blade with perfect accuracy, aimed to slice Gilbert across the chest. Feliciano screamed. But Gilbert was quick. Ungracefully, he stumbled back and raised his arms just in time. The blade sliced his forearm instead of his chest.

Ludwig’s voice was filled with hatred. “You-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Kuma, with Matthew on his back, barreled right into him. Feliciano flinched as Ludwig slammed against the ground, but then Ludwig’s body began to glow as he shifted into his dire wolf form. The noise he made sounded more like a roar than a bark.

Matthew scrambled from Kuma’s back, cursing softly as he landed on visibly shaking legs. Feliciano knew he should run over to Matthew so they could come up with some sort of plan, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ludwig and Kuma. Kuma was bigger than Ludwig, and he seemed to use that to his advantage as he leapt for Ludwig. Fear bubbled inside Feliciano. Matthew said Kuma would kill Ludwig. Why would that suddenly change now?

“Ludwig,” he whispered. “Please. Please, stop.”

There were hands gripping him, shaking him, and pulling him from his thoughts. Matthew and Gilbert were in front of him, their hands on his arms. Gilbert’s forearm was bleeding, Matthew’s neck was bruised, and Feliciano’s face probably looked like hell. They were all injured from Ludwig. He was not going to cry. He was still going to fight.

“We have to do something,” he said shakily. “And we need to do it quickly, before Kuma hurts him.”

“Kuma will only fight him in his wolf form,” Matthew breathed. “I made sure he understood that.” Behind his rounded glasses, his violet eyes narrowed with thought. “And I have a plan, but I don’t know if it will work. Kuma is going to distract him while I explain it to you two.”

Gilbert snarled softly. Feliciano had not noticed it before, but Gilbert’s free hand was clutched around Matthew’s. “Hurry up then, cause we’ve got nothing!”

Across from them, Kuma pinned Ludwig to the ground with a huge paw on his throat. Ludwig’s fangs snapped around Kuma’s leg, causing the bear to release his hold. His back paws must have slammed into Kuma’s belly, because the dire bear backed away from him completely. Feliciano didn’t want to watch anymore.

“When we saw the Green Knight,” Matthew started. “He told us about Lancelot, and he said only the light of Merlin and the heart of Elain could free him from his prison. Feli, you and I are going to be the ones to get that collar off.”

“But how?! Gilbert said there is no lock around it!”

Matthew lowered his head, his lavender eyes darkening in a way that made him seem much older than he was. “We’re going to use magic.”

Feliciano was not following, but it seemed Gilbert was. “Like last night,” he murmured. “You’re going to use the staff and the Faerie’s magic.”

Matthew nodded. “But first, we need to get my staff back.”

The staff that was currently beyond the two predators clawing at each other. Gilbert actually grinned, like he always did when there was danger afoot. “Leave it to me. You two keep talking about this plan!”

“No, Gil-” Feliciano’s words died on his tongue as Gilbert dashed away. Kuma raised himself on his hind legs and opened his mouth to roar. Ludwig snarled right back and did not hesitate as tackled the bear. When they collapsed, the earth seemed to shake.

“Feli, listen to me.” Feliciano blinked at Matthew. How was Matthew able to speak so calmly? “I’m going to use my blood to activate the staff, but I think I need some of your blood too. Not only are you Elain, but you are Fae. There’s magic inside of you, even if the majority of it is dormant because of the curse. I’m going to need you to spread some of your blood over the runes on my staff.” Matthew hesitated. “This might not even work, but we have to try.”

They had to try for Ludwig. Feliciano took a deep breath. He could do this. “Okay. Yeah, okay, we’re going to do this.”

Ludwig snarled right in Kuma’s face, and Kuma swatted him across the muzzle with enough force, his head was snapped to the side. Ludwig leapt off of Kuma, and immediately shifted. His nose and the top of his lip glistened with blood from Kuma’s attack.

“_Enough_ of this.” Ludwig’s eyes fell on Feliciano and Matthew. He was not even aware of Gilbert behind him, picking up the discarded staff. Ludwig snatched his sword from the ground, lowered his body, and sprinted for them. “I’m ending this now!”

Matthew started to push Feliciano away, but Feliciano gripped his arm. “I’m not leaving you!” There was something wrong with Matthew’s knee, there must be. It had hit the ground twice with enough force that someone with normal knees would be in pain. There was no way Matthew could run right now. “I’ll take the brunt of the attack, Matthew, because you’re the only one who can wield the staff!”

“What?” Matthew shoved him harder, but the movement made him stumble. Feliciano tightened his grip. “No, Feli-”

Ludwig stopped in front of them and lifted his sword, his arm blocking his mouth from sight. Matthew and Feliciano stumbled back. They slipped on their own feet, and fell to the ground. Kuma roared, and bounded toward them as Gilbert, in a desperate voice, screamed,

“Birdie!”

“_Don’t hurt them anymore_!”

Fear was not an uncommon emotion for Feliciano. He was scared of the dark as a child, he was scared of losing patients as an apprentice healer, and he was scared of being found by Avalon when he lived in the Orlon Forest. He thought nothing would terrify him more than the night their village was burned to the ground, but he realized, in this moment, that he was wrong, because nothing would ever frighten him more than the sight of his son skidding to a halt in front of a man who was ready to kill anything in his sight.

Everything was moving in slow motion, the world was coming to a complete halt. Feliciano could see the horrific image of that soldier swinging his blade and cutting Elias in half, because in this moment, the man above them was not his beloved mate but any other Avalonian soldier. Feliciano could not move fast enough, he could not scramble across the ground in order to get to Elias in time. Matthew could not either, his legs were not working. But then Feliciano’s arms were around Elias, and he was shielding him on his knees, and he was snarling at the man above them.

_No one was going to harm his son_.

The snarl died on his lips when Ludwig did not move. Ludwig’s entire body was shaking, stuck in the position with his sword in the air behind him and his arm covering his mouth. His eyes were wide and trained on Feliciano and Elias. A small noise left him, a combination of a soft groan and a whimper. The collar was glowing, but there was nothing coming from it this time. Why? What was so different this time?

Feliciano’s grip around Elias tightened. It couldn’t be Elias. Ludwig never met him, and considering he knew Gilbert and Feliciano, and was still fighting them… no. Right?

Ludwig spoke in a small, strained voice. “Th-that boy…”

Somehow, now, here, with their eyes on each other, Ludwig recognized his son, and it was halting his rampage. The breath caught in Feliciano’s throat as everything around them fell away. Elias’s hand dug into Feliciano’s arm, but he was not shaking. “Why is he stopping, _Mamma_?”

“Ludwig,” Feliciano whispered. “Ludwig, I know you can hear me. You can do this, I know you can. You can overcome the thing controlling you, you’re strong enough. Come home to us. Come home to your brother, and your son, and me. Please. Please, Ludwig.” His voice cracked, but his eyes never left Ludwig’s. He was not going to give up on his mate. “Come home. Come home to me. I love you, Ludwig.”

.

_ **Do not listen.** _

_Come home._

_What was home?_

_ **You do not have a home.** _

A cottage, an alpha with white hair and a loud laugh, a beautiful omega with warm amber eyes and the softest touch. Not a big house, but it was perfect for them. Home… home… He wanted to go home.

It was warm, and wonderful, and everything that the beautiful omega was. He was there, right in front of him, with a boy in his arms. A boy… he had never seen this boy before. Why did he feel so familiar? This was someone important to him, they must be.

_ **That boy is NOTHING to you, hear me? Neither is that whore holding him, or that alpha behind you. Kill them ALL.** _

_Home. Were they his home? Home was his beautiful omega, and the white haired alpha who laughed so freely. Home. Home was a gentle and peaceful place._

_ **Which means it does not belong to you!** _

_“I love you,_.”_

_ **NO.** _

_“I love you, Ludwig.”_

_ **Do NOT-** _

_“I love you, too, Feliciano.”_

.

“Gilbert, now!” Matthew’s shout echoed through the forest. With a grunt from Gilbert, the staff sailed through the air and landed beside them. Matthew did not waste any time, he grabbed the staff and cradled it in his arms. Somehow, Feliciano and Elias were keeping Ludwig at bay, but that did not mean he would stay like that. He couldn’t, not for long at least, with the collar on. They needed to act now.

Gilbert was beside him in an instant, crouched on his knees. Matthew reached behind him and picked up the only arrow that had not fallen from Gilbert’s quiver. He sliced his palm open with the iron tip, and tossed the arrow to the side.

Now would come the tricky part, getting Feliciano’s attention without Ludwig losing his mind again. But it seemed Feliciano was one step ahead of him. The Fae was moving his hand to his side, where a huge tear in his tunic lay. When he withdrew his fingers, they were coated in golden blood. Gently, Matthew reached forward and slid his fingers along Feliciano’s, gathering all of the blood he could.

He pressed his fingers against one of the runes, and then he wrapped his bloody hand around that very same rune. The staff grew warmer. That same _something_ began to spark within his body again, just like last night, only this time… oh, this time, it was so much more powerful.

Gilbert’s hands were on him, helping him stand. Matthew planted the staff in the dirt, and gritted his teeth. “Don’t let go of me,” he whispered.

“Never, Birdie.” Gilbert’s lips were close to his ear, his hands pressed against his hips. “I’ve always got you.”

The staff’s runes began to glow again, lighting further. Matthew’s eyes widened as a yellow orb appeared through the antler-like top of the staff. Never before has that happened. “Feli, Elias, you need to move, now!”

Feliciano did as he was told, and climbed to his feet. He pushed Elias back, so they were standing at Matthew’s side. The trance Ludwig seemed to be in broke as soon as Feliciano and Elias moved. His arm dropped, the blade of his sword digging into the dirt. He snarled again, and the collar glowed once more. The purple light exploded around him again, and his shout of pain echoed through the forest. If that light ceased before their plan was finished, they were dead.

“Feli-”

“I know!” With a hand dripping with golden blood, Feliciano gripped the staff beneath Matthew’s hand. The runes glowed even brighter, as did the orb between the antlers. It grew brighter, and brighter, until it mirrored a fallen star. Matthew gasped as the staff began to shake. Gilbert’s grip tightened around him, his chest pressing against Matthew’s back, holding his weight. Within Matthew, the sparks of magic continued to explode. It was hot, and cold, and completely unfamiliar, but it was not painful. There was an aching throb from somewhere inside of him, but it did not hurt. It was powerful.

Beside him, Feliciano winced, but he did not hang his head or let go. He raised his chin with his amber eyes glowing like the jewels Faerie eyes were supposed to mirror. Matthew pressed his arm against Feliciano’s, and together they held each other up. In front of them, a golden shape began to form. Matthew’s eyes widened. It was creating a body.

The only color on the body was the same golden light shining from the staff. There was a cape flapping behind the form, along with a specific uniform Matthew now knew belonged to the Legatus’ of Raetia. This was the Faerie who appeared to him numerous times before. He was here, created by this golden, magical light.

“Holy fuck,” Gilbert breathed.

“What’s…” Elias’s voice broke. “What’s going to happen?”

The color around Ludwig disappeared, and he snarled again. Completely unperturbed by what was happening in front of him, Ludwig raised his sword again. The growl that came from was not natural. He lowered his body, and charged again. Gilbert cursed beside Matthew’s ear, but Matthew would not give up. He slid his foot along the dirt, bracing himself.

Then the Faerie of golden light unsheathed a blade at his hip. It, too, was made entirely out of light. The Faerie charged, racing for Ludwig with trails of light being left in his wake. Ludwig did not stop, he did not hesitate, he did not even look put off by this magical thing heading right toward him. He swung his blade, but it did nothing thing against the light. The Faerie did not stop, even as he was a single centimeter from Ludwig’s body. No, instead he ran completely _through_ Ludwig.

Ludwig froze. The collar around his neck glowed, but it was not the same purple color like before. Instead golden runes glowed around the stone, just like the runes along Matthew’s staff. And then the collar fell to the ground, followed by Ludwig.

The golden Faerie stood over him as he sheathed his blade, and just like that, he disappeared. The runes along the staff stopped glowing, and the buzzing magic inside Matthew disappeared. He dropped the staff and leant further against Gilbert, gasping and shaking. It worked. The magic- Faerie magic was the key to getting that collar off.

“Is it… is it over?” Gilbert asked softly. He did not sound like an intimidating, swaggering alpha right now, but a little boy. It broke Matthew’s heart.

Feliciano did not hesitate. He raced to Ludwig’s side, and knelt to the ground. Carefully, he rolled Ludwig onto his back. Ludwig’s eyes were closed, his eyebrows drawn together in what looked to be pain. His neck was covered in red scratch marks and scabs, but none of it compared to the white band the marks seemed to guard. The band his collar created. Feliciano lifted Ludwig closer so the alpha’s upper body was in his arms.

“Ludwig?” His voice was soft. He leant down and pressed his ear against Ludwig’s lips. A small cry left him. “Oh, thank you, Mab. Thank you.” Feliciano tilted his head and pressed his forehead against Ludwig’s. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay, Ludwig. You’re home now, you’re with me. It’s okay. It’s okay, Ludwig.”

Feliciano’s words were heavy with sobs. It made Matthew want to cry. Very slowly, he pulled away from Gilbert and ungracefully sat on the ground. Gilbert barely seemed to notice. Stiffly, the alpha walked closer to Feliciano and Ludwig. He knelt to the ground and grasped Ludwig’s hand. He pulled the black glove off. “You bastard,” he whispered. He pressed the limp hand to his cheek, and leant into it. “You stubborn bastard. Not even a sword could kill you?” Gilbert inhaled sharply, and when he exhaled, it was the first time Matthew ever heard him cry with such emotion. “My baby brother is alive.”

Feliciano’s sob grew louder as he pulled his head back. His face was stained with tears. He reached over and took Ludwig’s other hand. After he removed the glove, his breath caught. “Your ring. You kept your ring.”

A black band rested around his ring finger, a ring Matthew assumed was for his mateship with Feliciano. Feliciano stroked his palm. “I love you so much,” he whispered. “I never stopped, Ludwig. Never. Never, I never, ever stopped. I-” He broke off. Ludwig’s pinkie finger wrapped itself around Feliciano’s. His eyes were still closed, making the simple task that more miraculous. Feliciano’s lips wobbled. “You remembered.”

He burst into tears and pressed his face back against Ludwig’s, their pinkie fingers tightly wound around one another’s. Gilbert pushed his own face into Ludwig’s palm, his shoulders shaking as sobs overtook him. A tear fell from Matthew’s own eye as he watched the scene. Gilbert and Feliciano were hurt, they were bleeding and bruising, but with every attack Ludwig hit them with, they stood back up. Nothing stopped them. It was that love that burned so brightly within them that struck Matthew. This is what a pack was, they fought for one another and never gave up.

“That’s my father.” Elias’s voice was hollow beside Matthew. He looked at the boy. Elias’s eyes were trained on the scene in front of them. He was watching his mother cradle an alpha who just tried to kill him. His mother and uncle were sobbing to the skies as they held a soldier who pointed his blade at them. How much had Elias seen? Had he witnessed Ludwig punch Feliciano, or cut Gilbert? “If that’s who my father is, then I wish he really was dead.”

The words cut through Matthew’s heart. He hoped Feliciano did not hear them over the sounds of his cries. Matthew reached for Elias, and the boy fell into his lap. “That man who hurt them was not your father. He was being controlled by something.”

Elias did not reply, he just gripped Matthew’s shirt and pushed his face into his collar bone. Matthew stroked the back of his head, and pressed his cheek against the boy’s temple as he continued to look at the scene in front of him.

Against all of the odds, they were all okay. They were hurting, and sobbing, and Ludwig was passed out, but they were alive. They were going to be okay.

.

_The Royal Palace of Camelot, Avalon; the same day._

The shapeshifting hawk simply known as Reiner kept his hands pressed firmly against his back as he stood at the position of attention inside the war council room. He stood at the end of the long, rectangular table in the dark room. The mahogany walls flickered with the shadows distributed by the roaring fire at Reiner’s back. Beneath his filthy black uniform, sweat was forming. He flew from the Orlon Forest to Camelot in two days, stopping only to sleep. To say his superiors were dismayed by the news he brought was an understatement.

At the table sat the most militarily powerful alphas in Avalon; generals, sergeants, and admirals. They were all mostly human. The seat directly across from Reiner was empty, as His Majesty King Alexander was absent with his daemons, and witches, and goblins, currently on the way to Norge. The seat at his right was empty as well. No surprise there, King Alexander’s spineless son Alfred was not usually present during meetings like this. And of course, the seat beside Alfred was empty, too. General Beilschmidt was assigned to that particular one.

Across from Prince Alfred’s empty seat was chair that belonged to the Field Marshal, the alpha who oversaw every military action within Avalon, second only to His Majesty. Field Marshal Sallow was a large man, who, at every single meeting, sat with his backsword in his hands. His gut hung over his belt, and his black eyebrows were speckled with gray. Field Marshal Sallow no longer led the troops he commanded onto the battlefield. He was nothing like General Beilschmidt. None of these alphas inside this council room were like him, who fought and trained and spoke with his soldiers.

Even now, as Reiner explained what happened with General Beilschmidt in the Orlon Forest, he felt a twinge of guilt in his heart. But above all, he was loyal to the crown.

Even if the crown cared nothing for his kind.

Field Marshal Sallow leant forward in his seat, the wooden thing groaning beneath his weight. Reiner almost wished it would break. “General Beilschmidt killed nine elite shapeshifters, all on his own?”

Reiner straightened his spine. “Yes, Field Marshal. They were not even able to get a scratch on him.”

“Hm. The collar should not have allowed him to be capable of such disobedience.”

Reiner hesitated. Of course, he knew what had caused General Beilschmidt to lose control. General Beilschmidt wore a collar, an infernal device created by His Majesty, so he could be better controlled when completing missions. Inside the palace, he could not leave, thus he had no reason to wear the collar, but outside the palace of Camelot, he could go wherever he pleased. Reiner, and most of the other shapeshifters inside Camelot, did not have to wear the collar. He never knew if that were a good thing or not.

“If I may, Field Marshal, I was able to speak with one of the Fae inside the Orlon Forest.”

“I said we would talk about the Fae at a later date,” the Field Marshal grunted. “We have more important things on our hands, like retrieving that damn mutt before His Majesty hears of this.”

Reiner truly felt like he was betraying General Beilschmidt as he said, “It is about the general, sir.” The Field Marshal fixed him with a bored glare, but waved him on. “Field Marshal, sir. I spoke with one of the Fae, and he easily told me General Beilschmidt has a family, contrary to what the general told us. It seems General Beilschmidt has an elder brother named Gilbert Beilschmidt, a Fae mate named Feliciano Beilschmidt, and nine year-old son named Elias Beilschmidt.” Many officers in the room broke into a murmur. “They are currently with the witch His Majesty ordered us to find, whose name is Matthew Williams. Apparently, General Beilschmidt’s family are now with Matthew Williams, and are on their way to Bannockburn from the Orlon Forest.”

The murmur grew louder, the voices mixed with excitement and apprehension.

“General Beilschmidt said he had no family.”

“The last of the Beilschmidt line, that’s what he told His Majesty.”

“No, he did say he had a brother, but his brother had died. Same with his mate. The mate died in childbirth. No surprise there, it is not easy giving birth to a shapeshifter.”

“But they live?”

“Silence!” the Field Marshal snapped. “Are you sure about this? How do you know this Fae was not lying?”

“Because who dear Reiner spoke to was not Fae at all.” If Reiner were not at the position of attention, he would have flinched from the smooth, strangely accented voice that spoke beside the Field Marshal. He was a tall, skinny male with ashen gray skin and burgundy hair that fell to his shoulders. His posture was relaxed, his red jacket draped over his boney shoulders and silky white button up. He tilted his head to the side, and Reiner was given a perfect view of his eyeless socket. No eye patch to cover it today. His other eye gleamed in the darkness of the room. Where the sclera of most humanoid creatures was white, his was yellow. The iris of his eye was a bright red, his pupil black. Reiner hated this creature, and he knew this creature hated his kind as well. It wasn’t surprising, considering it had been General Beilschmidt who tore his right eyeball from its socket.

“Please,” Reiner murmured. “Elaborate, sir.”

The male smiled, showing a row full of pearly white fangs. A skinny tongue slithered from between his lips and rubbed against one long tooth. “I will not elaborate to a low ranking soldier like yourself, dear Reiner. These ladies and gentlemen know who I’m referring to, that’s all.”

“Viktor is right,” the Field Marshal grunted. “And if it was that one who told you, they’re right. Hm. Gilbert, Feliciano and Elias. You said his mate is Fae? And he gave birth to a shapeshifter?”

“Yes, Field Marshal. A healthy alpha boy, who can shift into a dire wolf just like his father, allegedly.”

The Field Marshal shook his head, and laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “Incredible. And the general’s brother?”

“The brother is, apparently, only part shapeshifter. He cannot shift into anything.”

“Useless then.” The Field Marshal grunted, and crossed his arms across his large stomach. He glanced at the man- no, Viktor was _not_ a man- at his side. “If a Fae is able to give birth to a healthy shapeshifter, then he would be more than capable of birthing goblin royalty.”

“We are on the same page!” Viktor tapped his finger- his nail was clawed, not rounded- against his gray cheek. “And he is General Beilschmidt’s mate too… yes. Oh, I like this.” Reiner had to grit his teeth behind closed lips to keep himself from shivering as Viktor grinned like a cat. “I think I finally found a way to get back at that lovely general. I’ll have a pleasant present waiting for me when I return from Norge.”

“And the witch? What is he?” the Field Marshal asked.

“Beta, sir. That is what the, um, Fae told me. He has a limp, and he looks…” Reiner caught himself. When he spied on the witch and his companion a week ago, he thought the witch looked hauntingly similar to Alfred. Perhaps he should keep that to himself. “He looks very young, no older than eighteen. He is also a seer, according to this Fae.”

The Field Marshal slammed his hand against the table, causing many others to jump. He laughed again. “_What_ a magnificent pack traveling together, hm? Now, did Viktor’s little lackey tell you why they were going to Bannockburn?”

Reiner slid his gaze away from the Field Marshal. He would not like the answer. “Sir, apparently, they are on their way to find a new king to replace His Majesty. They call this king the Once and Future King.”

Even the crackling fire behind them seemed to turn quiet. No one ever spoke of replacing King Alexander, it was a death sentence. It’s why no one spoke, except for Viktor, who chuckled softly. “A magnificent pack indeed, Field Marshal.”

“Quiet, goblin,” the Field Marshal murmured. “Keep your dirty mouth shut.” Abruptly, the alpha stood. “Sergeant,” he said, narrowing his eyes on a middle-aged alpha sitting closer to the other end of the table. “Round up your best men and lead them to this seer and his cadre. Kill Gilbert Beilschmidt, but I want Matthew Williams, and Feliciano and Elias Beilschmidt alive. His Majesty needs another seer, Viktor can have the Fae, and the boy can follow in the footsteps of his father.”

The sergeant stood and quickly bowed. “Yes, Field Marshal.”

“Reiner.” Reiner stiffened again from his name. The Field Marshal growled, “Get me the beast tamer. If anyone is able to control Beilschmidt, it’s him. Now, get out of my sight, shifter.”

The beast tamer. The cruel man who trained shapeshifter soldiers when they first arrived in the palace. He is the only man who General Beilschmidt trembled in front of. Reiner pushed past the disgust in his stomach and bowed. “Yes, Field Marshal.”

As Reiner turned on his heel, Viktor spoke. “Oh, Reiner. Tell the beast tamer to keep our lovely general conscious.” Reiner made the mistake of turning his head to look into Viktor’s yellow eye. The Goblin King’s grin stretched across his face. “I want to make sure he’s awake while I play with his mate.”

Reiner felt like he was going to be sick. “I will let the beast tamer know.” He felt Viktor’s eye on his back until he closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I named Reiner after Reiner Braun from SnK, because it's a German name <s>and because I love him</s>.
> 
> All characters in the end are antagonist OC's, most of which will have much bigger roles in the following parts of this series. I really hope everyone liked this chapter, even if it was upsetting. Next chapter is coming soon, so stay tuned!


	13. Love, Old and New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bogbees drew more fan art for this fic, which you can find [here](https://bogbees.tumblr.com/post/613066565152391168/with-each-new-chapter-comes-new-ideas-for-a-new)!
> 
> Ilikecatsandmusicals (Hana H on ao3) has started a collection of art on Wattpad for fan art of this fic, most of which are adorable pictures of Elias. You can find it [ here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/218086333-my-fanart-for-the-witch-and-the-prophecy-by)! Please give them some likes, I feel like they've been with this fic since the beginning <3
> 
> To the people who draw art for this fic, you guys are amazing. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine anyone would do something like that! Just, wow.
> 
> AND 102 KUDOS??? WTF, you guys are killing me. 82 comments??? (Okay, half are my replies, but still!) Sometimes I'm just laying in bed and start freaking flipping cause this many people like my story??? What??? I hope no one is bothered by the amount of thanks I'm always giving, but seriously. You guys are amazing, every one of you. I love you all.

_The Royal Palace of Camelot; the next morning._

The dawn sky was pink above the winter flowers that bloomed within the palace’s garden. If the sky was pink, and the fluffy clouds white and baby blue, it was going to be a good day, at least that was what Sakura Honda always told herself and for the most part, her theory proved correct.

With her hands folded in front of her, like any proper omega in His Majesty’s Court, she stepped out of the entrance way and onto the path that led to the gray slabs of slated stepping stones winding across the dark brown dirt of the garden. There was a terrible chill in the air, and a gentle wind that pulled insistently at Sakura’s pale pink dress, but she didn’t mind it. This chill simply woke her from her earlier slumber, where she was cuddled under numerous warm blankets in the chambers she shared with her mother. True noble omegas of His Majesty’s Court were never deterred by harmless things like the weather! She could walk through this with her head held high!

Besides, she was on a mission to create a lovely bouquet. A little bit of wind wouldn’t stop her from doing something as important as this!

Sakura froze when a skinny white cat emerged beneath some pansies. The white cat stretched languidly, its whiskers twitching as it simultaneously sniffed the air. It too froze when its blue eyes landed on her. She dropped her hands to her sides. Stray cats like this were constantly coming from beyond the garden walls that led into the surrounding city of Camelot. Even though cats were her favorite animal, they always ran away from her. Her mother said it was because she had the scent of a predator. She smiled hesitantly.

“Um, hello.” She lowered herself to her knees. “I’m so sorry, I did not mean to disturb your morning walk. I’m on one too!” The cat continued to stare at her without blinking its widened eyes. She took a delicate sniff of the air. From the cat’s scent, it was a young male. “Would you be so kindest to join me, maybe?”

The tom’s nose twitched, and Sakura held her breath. This would be the moment he detected her scent, and upon realizing the heavy smell of fox was on her, he would scamper away and she would be all alone. It happened every time. But this cat did not run. He sat on his haunches and began licking his paw, only to draw it over his face.

A delighted noise left Sakura. She knew the pink sky meant it was going to be a good day! She stood up, the white ruffles at the hem of her dress now spotted with flecks of dirt. “I will have to come up with a name for you, but in the meantime, perhaps you can help me make a bouquet?” The cat did not make any sort of noise of acknowledgement, but he stayed. That’s what mattered.

Deciding this was as good of a place as ever, Sakura knelt in the dirt once again and touched the first plant that caught her attention. A blooming mahonia shrub, its yellow flowers a dazzle in the dawn light. “I’m picking flowers for a friend of mine,” she explained to the tom. She barely needed to concentrate in order for her right pointer finger’s nail to turn into a sharp claw, identical to a fox’s. She sliced it along the stem of one of the mahonia’s flowers.

“At least, I think he’s a friend,” she continued softly. “He’s a lot older than me, though everyone here seems to be. You see, I’m only nine years old, but that isn’t really important. He’s a shapeshifter, just like my mother and me. He’s very kind, too, and he always makes time for me.” Her gentle smile widened. “He’s more like an older brother than a friend, I suppose. Do you have any older brothers?”

Sakura stood and padded over to the next plant that caught her fancy, the beautiful snowdrops. The long stems were flawless, as were the down casted white flower buds. She gently touched the soft petals. She would only take one snowdrop. “I’m giving Ludwig- oh, that’s his name- a bouquet because he has been gone for two months, and I miss him very much.”

The smile fell from her face. When Ludwig came to tell her goodbye, she refused to let him go as they embraced. Every time he left the palace, he came back sadder and sadder. His scent was plagued with that sad sickness. She tried to make him happy, she thought her mother made him happy, but her mother explained it was a sickness only special individuals could cure. Sakura still did not understand. She did not understand why Ludwig had to leave, or why she was forbidden from seeing him on certain days, or why he sometimes he would stare at the flowers in the garden with a far off look in his eyes, like he wasn’t really _there_ anymore.

Before he left the palace two months ago, he promised to see her soon. Then he kissed her head, and went to see King Alexander. Sakura had tried not to cry, noble omegas did not cry, but the tears came. For two months, she patiently waited Ludwig’s return, and when he did come back, they could have fun again!

“I’m making him a bouquet as a welcome home gift,” she continued. “Flowers make Ludwig very happy. When I asked him why, he told me someone he loved had the scent of herbs and flowers, and always gardened, but that was all he said.” She stood again with the delicate snowdrop in her hands, and shuffled over to the purple viburnum. “I think he’s going to like this.”

As she knelt on the ground again, something soft rubbed against her legs. The white cat softly purred as he weaved around her with his tail straight in the air. Sakura could not contain her gasp of excitement. She almost dropped the snowdrop.

“There are stripes on your back,” she murmured. Across the cat’s back were pale silver stripes. It was such a pretty design. Hesitantly, she placed the flower on the ground and ran her hand across the tom’s flank. He did not freeze or runaway, instead he arched his back into her touch. She giggled. “What bravery! Why is it you aren’t afraid of me?”

The tom pressed against her further, and her heart fluttered. She could cry from the happiness filling her chest right now. “Would you mind if I named you? I have the perfect name, it’s Byakko! He is a legendary white tiger from Ishini myth.”

Byakko purred louder. Sakura beamed. She brushed a piece of short black hair behind her ear, the end pieces tickling her neck. She made a new friend today. “I bet you’re starving, Byakko. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet, so I can give you some of it. Breakfast isn’t for another hour though, I’m sorry about that. In the meantime, would you like to help me with this bouquet?”

Byakko stepped away from her, the purr still rumbling in his throat. Sakura smiled brightly in his direction. “Great! Let’s pick some winter cherries next. They’re my favorite, I was named after them, do you know?”

“Sakura?”

At the sound of her name, Sakura turned around. Standing on one of the pieces of slate was none other than Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Immediately, Sakura lifted her skirts and swept her left foot in front of her right in order to curtsy. She bowed her head. “Y-Your Majesty.”

“Rise, child. It is alright.”

Hesitantly, Sakura lifted her head and dropped her skirt. Queen Victoria’s dress was an exquisite thing; a dark red velvet with bell sleeves, and gold stitched across the low cut neck. It covered her feet, the bottom of the slightly flared skirt resting in the dirt, but she did not seem to mind. Her thick black hair was braided like a crown around her head, with her actual crown sitting atop it. Queen Victoria was so beautiful. Sakura dreamed to be like her one day, silent, strong, and wise. But here, Queen Victoria looked rather tired. There were dark circles beneath her violet eyes, and her usually dark face was pale. There was a sadness coming from her, Sakura could scent it.

She stiffened when she saw a figure standing relatively close to Queen Victoria. Her personal guard, usually hidden within the shadows, was standing in the light with a hand on the blade at his hip. Sakura liked Queen Victoria’s guard almost as much as she liked Ludwig. He was an alpha who never spoke, apparently he could _not_ speak, but his kindness did not need to be expressed with words. On more than one occasion, Sakura had seen the guard offer a hand to her mother when others preferred to scoff in her mother’s direction. Sometimes he even showed Sakura some of his strange magic, the ability to bend water at will. He loved cats too, Sakura caught him, numerous times in fact, feeding stray cats who wandered on the palace grounds from the city. Where most guards chased the cats away, he welcomed them.

Sakura raised a hand and hesitantly waved at the guard. He did not smile or wave back, but his pale green eyes brightened just a bit in recognition.

“Um, is everything okay, Your Majesty?” Sakura quietly asked. The tiredness on the queen’s face, the sadness in her scent, and her visible guard at her side, it was all quite strange to her.

Queen Victoria shook her head. “Of course, my dear. You have no reason to worry.” She walked closer, her eyebrows raising in surprise at the sight of Byakko. She said nothing, but her gentle smile made Sakura smile too. “What are you doing out here so early? The sun has not even risen.”

If anyone would understand, it would be Queen Victoria! “I’m making a bouquet for Lud- I mean, General Beilschmidt, for when he returns!” Queen Victoria and Ludwig were together quite often, when Ludwig was not working. They were obviously friends too. She pointed to Byakko. “My new friend is helping me.”

Byakko blinked at the queen, but seemed more interested in the guard behind her. He stood up and padded to the guard, winding around his legs and purring loudly. Sakura smiled softly. The queen’s guard always had little treats with him for cats, Byakko could eat this way.

“Oh, Sakura.” Sakura blinked at the queen as she spoke. Her tone made Sakura weary. “I am afraid-” She broke off, and stared at the sky. There was a faint smile on her face. “I am afraid Ludwig will not be returning to the palace.”

She must not have heard the queen correctly. “What?” The words threw her off, and she quickly scrambled to say, “Y-Your Majesty?”

Queen Victoria smiled at the sky for a moment longer, before she, surprisingly, knelt to the ground in front of Sakura. True, Queen Victoria sometimes allowed Sakura to accompany her throughout the palace, and she’s even allowed her to brush her hair, but it was a strange occurrence to have the queen take her hands and run calloused fingers across her own.

“You know of my powers, yes? My ability to see things even when they are not in front of me?” Sakura nodded. Everyone knew that. “Well, last night I was given a wonderful vision of Ludwig. He is with his family right now, sleeping in the arms of the one he loves most.”

Sakura did not understand, nor did she understand the strange ache blossoming in her chest. She attempted to blink the stinging sensation from her eyes. “But Ludwig always comes back. He wouldn’t just leave us!”

“Ludwig is with his mate now,” she whispered. Queen Victoria’s smile softened. Were there tears in her eyes? “Oh, little _Chula_. You will understand one day what it means to love a mate. That sort of love overpowers everything else, and you will do whatever it takes to stay with them, and protect them, and take care of them.”

“But…” Sakura could not comprehend this. Ludwig never said anything about a mate, or a family for that matter. They were dead, right? That’s what others whispered behind his back. Either way… “He still wouldn’t- I thought this was his home. I thought… we were his home?”

Queen Victoria brushed Sakura’s bangs back for a moment, smiling still. “You will find that many believe their home to _be_ their mate. I know it is hard to hear, but this was never Ludwig’s home.” Her eyes darkened. “Just as it was never mine.”

Sakura blinked. She was quite sure she was not meant to hear that, but her grief was so thick, she could not process the words entirely. “I will never see Ludwig again?”

Queen Victoria’s eyes grew cloudy with a far off look, just like the one Ludwig gave to the flowers in this very garden. “I never said that, _Chula_. In fact, Ludwig may- will return, but not in the way you are expecting. The stars call upon him, and many others, to do what only he can do.” She took a shuddering breath, and her eyes cleared. She tucked a piece of Sakura’s hair behind her ear. “Do not be angry with Ludwig. He deserves to be with his family again.”

Anger was not the emotion inside of her right now. It was more like a swirling despair that consumed her, a pulsing confusion that asked questions. “I’m not,” she whispered. She blinked, and a small tear fell. “What… what will happen now? Where will he go? He is… he is alive, isn’t he?”

“Yes, dear. He is alive.” Queen Victoria smiled sadly. “If I know _Tokula_, he will come back to the palace, just not in the way you are imagining.” Sakura knew if she asked for clarification, she would not receive any. Queen Victoria was as mysterious as she was beautiful. “But I also know my _Tokula_ will do everything to keep his mate and son safe.”

“Son?” Sakura blurted out. She was so startled that she did not even notice the queen referring to Ludwig as “hers”. Ludwig never, ever mentioned anything like that. No one did in the palace. “He has a son?”

“Yes. A son your age, from what I could see in my vision.” Queen Victoria took her hands once more and squeezed them. “Who knows? Perhaps one day, the two of you will meet, and become inseparable friends.”

“Perhaps…” Sakura knew the Queen was trying to make her feel better, but it was not helping. The despair was swallowing her whole. She lowered her head. She did not know what to do with these feelings inside of her. A small noise of surprise left her as Queen Victoria wrapped her arms around her, and pulled her close.

Her hands were on the back of her head, stroking her hair. Her scent of lilies and fire engulfed Sakura, and put her mind at ease. “I know, little _Chula_. You do not understand what any of this means, but you will one day. You will see Ludwig again, I promise you.”

There was a lump in Sakura’s throat that prevented her from speaking. She did not know what to say anyway. She simply closed her eyes and allowed the queen to hold her. Ludwig was gone, with a group of people she knew nothing about. Who knew how long it would be until she saw Ludwig again? Oh, how she would miss him. The stormy nights within the palace library, where he would read her grand stories from books she did not know how to read just yet; the silent strength he provided, allowing her to feel safe in a palace she knew did not truly want her; and the gardening he would assist her with, his almost strange knowledge of flowers and herbs. She would miss all of it, and all of him.

She stiffened when her shapeshifter ears caught the sound of a small, almost inaudible, sniffle. Queen Victoria.

“Do you love Ludwig?” Sakura was quite certain the queen did.

She chuckled. “I love him like my own son.” Her voice grew harder, and her grip around Sakura tightened. “But I am not sad to see him leave this place, not after what it has done to him.” She pulled away, and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. The sight startled Sakura. “But enough of this. Why don’t we make a bouquet for your mother instead? I’m sure he would love a gift as pretty as that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sakura left the queen’s side to pick up her discarded snowdrop. It did not even feel like her feet were touching the ground. Ludwig, her older brother, was gone. With a mate and son. She picked up the snowdrop and stared at the white petals. Deep in her heart, she had a fantasy she constantly dreamed about. No one knew about it, no one would ever know of it, it was only for her. Whenever she could not sleep, or whenever she became scared, she would think of it and calm down.

Her mother and Ludwig were friends, by Sakura’s standards at least. They did not laugh, or dance, or, really, do any sort of fun things together, but they were still sort- of- friends. They were shapeshifters, her mother a two-tailed fox, and Ludwig a dire wolf. Within her fantasy world, she thought Ludwig and her mother could become mates, and the three of them could be a family.

She could have a father.

It was kind of hard to imagine her quiet, unexpressive mother with anyone, especially someone like Ludwig, who was rather awkward and stiff, but it could work. Love always worked. They could have been a family. But… Ludwig already _had_ a family, a mate and a child. She blinked up at the winter cherry tree, the pale pink flowers a marvelous beauty in front of the pink sky.

Sakura tried to imagine what Ludwig’s family looked like. Was his mate a shapeshifter? Were they kind, and gentle, and loyal? Or were they wild, and fierce, and adventurous? Did his son look like him, or was he completely different? Whoever they were, Sakura did not wish them ill. They were lucky to have him. She just wished…

She did not notice the tears on her face until she felt a hand on her head. Queen Victoria’s guard stood over her, his silver chest armor glinting in the pale sunlight above a long sleeved purple shirt, and his thick brown hair framing an olive-skinned face. His eyes were kind and gentle. Sakura brushed her tears away, but they kept coming.

The guard knelt beside her and fished something from his pocket. It looked like a coin pouch, but upon opening it, she realized there was food inside of it. He took a tiny piece of meat out and placed it in his open palm, before laying it to the ground. Byakko trotted over, and immediately ate it. Hesitantly, Sakura took a piece out and mirrored the guard. Byakko sniffed her hand, then ate the piece. She giggled.

“His nose is so soft,” she murmured.

Sakura and the guard continued to feed Byakko, until the thought of Ludwig was but a distant shadow in her mind. For now, she wanted to focus on Byakko, the first cat who did not run from her.

At a distance, Ayiana watched Sakura and her silent guard Herakles, though her mind was elsewhere. Her vision last night had startled her, but now she was at peace. Ludwig had found his brother, and his mate, and his son, and, by some wonderful miracle, her first born son. Her _Nanook_. 

A gentle wind blew through the garden, ruffling Ayiana’s dress. She looked to the sky, as the sun began rising beyond the garden walls. In the distance, black clouds were heading toward them from the mountains, ready to block out the pink sky. Yes, Ludwig would return to the palace, but he would do so with his blade raised against Alexander, with Gilbert and her _Nanook_ at his side.

There was a sudden, loud commotion from beyond the garden wall, from the north side of the palace. Ayiana resisted the urge to scowl and hiss, even as the fire in her veins burned beneath her skin at the sound of the vile voices. Soldiers were departing, the horrific beast tamer was departing. She knew their orders, had spies listening to the meeting they had the day before. They were leaving to find Ludwig, his mate, his son, and _her_ son, to drag them to Camelot in order to be broken, used, and destroyed.

They would try, just like they tried with her, and Ludwig, and so many others. They almost broke her, they were so close to breaking Ludwig; but if he had to watch his mate and son be put through the same torture he was put through, or worse… She was certain he would shatter. She took a steadying breath and looked away from the garden wall. Ludwig was strong, Gilbert was cunning, they could slip through the fingers of soldiers, they would not allow themselves to fall victim to Avalon.

Ayiana rolled her shoulders back as the wind attempted to cool her burning flesh. She could not worry about Ludwig anymore, there was work she needed to do.

There was a rebellion she needed to lead.

.

_Unnamed Avalonian Forest_

The staff Matthew once thought of as a close friend was now a mere stranger.

It rested in his hands as he sat on the forest floor, warmth thrumming through its wooden veins and runes. There was no orb glowing between the antler-like top, nor was there a prickling sense of magic dancing across his skin. Everything felt natural again, unlike yesterday afternoon.

Matthew gritted his teeth as a pulsing pain throbbed from his left knee. The agonizing pain from the day before had numbed, but it was still there, beneath the surface of his skin. He was lucky he could still move. He pursed his lips as he exhaled a breath to get through the numbing fire licking its way across the ruined bone, his breath visible before him. Then he inhaled. He continued the breathing exercise until the pain subsided to the simple gentle throb.

Gently placing the staff at his side, he pushed his left pants leg up in order to examine his battered knee. The purple hue that usually covered the twisted bone was darker, with a ring of red around it. That hadn’t been there before, Matthew thought wearily. He had landed on it twice, with enough force to damage someone with a healthy knee. He could only send a silent prayer to the goddess of the sun, who was also the goddess of healing, that this would not deter their journey. As he unfurled his pants, he realized it probably would.

Matthew swatted the sweat now beading his brow, and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging the strands back. The sky above him was a pretty shade of pink, with painted white and blue clouds lazily drifting across. It was obviously not going to be as pleasant as the day before, an unfortunate circumstance since they were probably not going to do much walking today, but it was not freezing, snowing, or raining. They could live through one chilly day.

He glanced to the right where, a couple of paces away from his own seated position, Kuma and Elias lay. There was a bit of dried blood on Kuma’s muzzle and leg, but Matthew concluded he would be fine. He was protectively curled around a sleeping Elias, the boy gripping Kuma’s flank even in his unconscious state. A shred of sorrow went through him at the sight. Elias had only fallen asleep a few hours ago, too worried about his mother to do anything else but pace. He collapsed when the night sky had turned gray. Matthew wondered if his dreams were plagued by a man in black.

Gods, nothing made sense anymore. Matthew looked away and picked up the staff. He pressed his forehead against its warm side. There were so many questions to be answered, regarding the staff, the Legatus, and now Ludwig. And, as strange as it may be, there were numerous questions regarding himself too. What sort of magic did he supposedly wield? Not borrowed magic like yesterday. The Faerie had said there was an untamed magic inside of him, but how would he figure out what it was? How would he tame it? Did it even really matter? His head was beginning to pound from it all.

“Dear gods, you’re still awake.”

Matthew opened his eyes, and turned his head right as Gilbert stumbled through a thicket. In his arms were two rucksacks, Matthew’s satchel, and his leather jacket, all discarded items from the place they had left them yesterday, when Matthew and Elias had gone to find firewood. There were so many things Matthew should have asked Gilbert about- _how is your brother? How is Feli? Is the_ Fabula _still in my satchel_\- but every worry fled his mind when he saw the open wound across Gilbert’s forearm, took in the black circles beneath his eyes, and the skid mark across his left cheek.

“You haven’t done anything with the wound?” Matthew asked as Gilbert meandered to his side.

The alpha sighed as he sat on the ground, and gently placed their belongings in front of him. “Haven’t really had the time. Besides, if it were infected, it would already be showing signs. It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t.” It wasn’t fair to argue about this. With a small shake of his head, he picked up Feliciano’s brown rucksack and flipped it open. Removing the spare outfit, there were a couple of vials filled with poultices and dried herbs, shredded pieces of white cloth, and a thread and needle. It looked like there was also a jar of honey and a bottle of what could possibly be some sort of alcohol, for wounds, not for drinking purposes. Matthew retrieved the alcohol and a piece of cloth. “Give me your arm.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. With a gentle hand, Matthew took hold of Gilbert’s boney wrist to examine the wound, ignoring the way the simple touch made his throat tighten. It was a clean cut, right down the center of his forearm. He pressed his thumb against the side to open it, prompting a tiny inhale from Gilbert.

“You’re lucky,” Matthew murmured, reaching for the brown bottle of alcohol. “It’s not too deep.” Probably because it was not what Ludwig had been aiming for. Matthew’s heart had stopped as he watched Ludwig raise his blade, poised to strike Gilbert’s chest. It would have been deadly. That was the moment Matthew forced himself to get off the ground, to try and stop Ludwig so they could regroup. He tugged the vial from the bottle with his teeth.

Gilbert sniffed the air. “Gonna have ourselves a drink to celebrate? I could use one, I haven’t had one in nearly a whole- _Fucking hell_, warn me next time!”

The alcohol splashed against his wound, ready to fight off any lingering infection. Once the wound was doused in the strong smelling liquid, he let go of Gilbert’s wrist in order to tie the strip of cloth around it. “Shh, Elias is sleeping.”

“You just poured alcohol on an opened wound, and then you tell me to shh?”

Matthew allowed himself a tiny smile as he wrapped the arm. “You’re a strong alpha, you can handle a tiny sting.”

It was nice like this, Gilbert made everything so easy. Talking, thinking, working, breathing, tasks that were almost unbearable not even five minutes ago were so simple now that Gilbert was here. But they could not keep this banter up, not now. There were too many important things to talk about.

“It’s morning,” Gilbert murmured. “Shouldn’t the kid be waking up soon?”

The earlier pang in his chest returned. He gave the bandage a gentle tug to tighten it as he said, “It’s unlikely, considering he only fell asleep a few hours ago. He was too anxious, I think.”

Matthew lifted his eyes to catch Gilbert’s reaction, but it was hard to tell what the other was thinking right now. A shadow had fallen across his face, and his eyes were downcast, just like his lips. Gilbert looked so tired. “Sounds like none of us were able to sleep.”

“None?” Matthew tied the cloth together, and let go of Gilbert’s arm, though he immediately regretted doing so when Gilbert spoke.

“I don’t think the state Ludwig is in should be called ‘sleep’.” He lowered his head, and mumbled, “As soon as night fell, he woke up once an hour, screaming and thrashing for a good minute before quieting down. He nearly punched me in the face the first time, on accident. I don’t think he knew what he was doing.” Matthew held his breath as Gilbert inhaled sharply, probably reliving the events in his mind. Then he exhaled a sentence. “It was like a sickness, the first couple of times were the worst and then it gradually got better.”

Matthew could only imagine what it must have been like for Feliciano and Gilbert having to witness their loved one in such pain, while they were incapable of doing anything to truly help him. “Night terrors.” Hesitantly, Matthew opened his hand and laid it on the ground between them. Gilbert grabbed it like it were a lifeline. “Were his screams just screams, or was he saying something?”

Gilbert took such a long time to reply, Matthew was not sure if he had even heard him, but then, in a quiet voice, he muttered, “_Zieh es aus_. It’s shapeshifter language, and it basically means ‘take it off’ or ‘get it off’.”

Take the collar off. “He doesn’t know it’s off.” Matthew squeezed Gilbert’s hand. He resisted the urge to look at the collar, discarded a couple feet in front of him. They decided it would be a good idea to keep it away from Ludwig, just in case something were to happen, so Matthew took it with him when he, Elias, and Kuma left Gilbert, Feliciano, and Ludwig. Or, Kuma took it- as soon as Matthew had reached for it, Kuma nudged him away and growled, like it was dangerous. Clearly, it was. But it had not done anything, aside from stare at Matthew quite ominously for the entire night.

“Apparently not.” Gilbert shook his head. He opened his mouth again, but nothing came out. With a small sigh, he said, “Feli’s still with him, obviously. It’s kind of funny, every time Ludwig calmed down, he would take Feli’s hand again. He was knocked out, eyes closed and everything, but it’s like he knew Feli was there, and he was able to calm down because of him. I’m thankful for that.”

Like before, when he took Feliciano’s pinkie. “How is Feli? Has he treated his wounds?”

Gilbert gave him an incredulous stare, even as his lips lifted slightly. “You think Feli is gonna take care of himself when his mate is with him?” He shook his head. “He said he would be okay, the marks on hip aren’t that deep. All Feli needs right now is for Ludwig to wake up.”

That’s all everyone needed. Matthew brushed his thumb across Gilbert’s knuckles. There were no words he could say that would make Gilbert feel better, all he could offer right now was silent support. Gilbert said earlier he would never let go of Matthew; Matthew could act as Gilbert’s rock, his reassurance for the times when Gilbert did not know how to say “I need someone.”

“He will, Gil,” Matthew said softly as he offered a small smile. “If he’s anything like you, he’s too stubborn and strong to let something like this keep him down forever.”

Almost unexpectedly, Gilbert snarled. It was bordering on animalistic, like all of his growls and snarls, and it struck something small deep inside of Matthew’s chest. He could do nothing as Gilbert yanked his hand away. “_Strong_? Did you see what happened earlier? I could do absolutely _nothing_ to help my baby brother! Tell me, Matthew, if I’m so strong, why couldn’t I do anything?” His eyes blazed with so many unsaid emotions, and his twisted lips were wobbling with unsaid words. “You don’t know me, you don’t! If you did, you wouldn’t call someone as pathetic as me _strong_.”

That small, deep thing inside Matthew’s chest was instinct, telling him he should look away from the challenging eyes of an alpha, to drop his head in submission, and turn his cheek, because that’s what betas were supposed to do, but Matthew could not. He would not look away from Gilbert right now, not when he obviously needed someone to listen to these words. Matthew did not so much as flinch from the fire in Gilbert’s eyes. He had a feeling that fire, those hateful words, were not directed at him, either. They were reserved for the one saying them.

Gilbert blinked, and the blazing fire in his eyes fizzled out. As if he were reining himself in, he lowered his head, and the powerful alpha aura surrounding him shattered. This time, Matthew did flinch.

In a voice too broken to belong to his Gilbert, he murmured, “When Ludwig was standing over you, Feli, and Elias, I thought he was going to kill all three of you. I wouldn’t have been fast enough to get to you, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to stop him, the three of you would have been… You and Feli are hurt because I’m too weak to protect the two of you. I can’t... I can’t protect _anyone_, not even the ones I love most. I’m the worst excuse for an alpha.”

The words left a hole in Matthew’s chest, the wind that rattled the treetops above them seemed to sail right through it. Did it always physically hurt when a friend said something hateful about themselves? This could not go on, Gilbert could not keep saying these things about himself. It was going to kill him, and Matthew.“Give me your hand,” Matthew murmured.

Gilbert laughed dryly. “I’m not really in a hand-holding mood right now.”

“We’re not going to hold hands, Gil, I just want to show you something.” Gilbert finally looked up again with sparkling eyes. They were still so bright, even in the dawn’s shadows. Slowly, Gilbert offered Matthew his hand. “Thank you.” He flipped the hand over, palm upward. Lines decorated the palm, lines Adhan ordered Matthew to memorize countless years ago.

But every hand was different, every line was basically unfamiliar to Matthew in the beginning of these practices, and it was his job to become familiar with those lines by the end of it. “Right here,” he murmured, trailing a finger from the base of Gilbert’s palm to the space between his thumb and index finger. “Your fate line and life line are connected, that means you were born to do something important.”

Matthew could feel Gilbert’s eyes on him, no doubt giving him an incredulous look. “What the hell are you-”

“Shush. Watch my finger.” Gilbert may have grumbled, but he shifted closer to Matthew. “This one here is your heart line.” He ran his finger across the base of Gilbert’s finger along a short, straight line. “When it comes to love, you’re independent, and you have a hard time expressing your feelings verbally.” The finger moved away from the deep lines to the ones on the right side of his palm. “This one here means you’re a leader, and oh- this one under it? It tells me you’re honest.”

Matthew ran his finger against a deep, long line, the longest one outside of the five basic lines on everyone’s palm. “There it is,” he murmured with a smile. He knew it would be there. “Do you see how long this one is?” Gilbert nodded. “This indicates strength, but what kind of strength- physical, emotional, spiritual- is unclear, but your strength is there. And since the line is deep and long, your strength is noticeable to others.” He smiled as he ran his finger along the line again, cherishing it. “Like me.”

Gilbert’s voice was hoarse as he murmured, “For all I know, you’re just pulling this from your ass. Only a fool would think the lines on your hands actually mean something.”

Ever the rational thinker. Matthew did not look up as he continued to trace the many lines decorating Gilbert’s palm. “This is ancient work, witches have been doing this for centuries. It is a form of divination, just like tarot cards and tea leaves. To us, to witches, it is real.” Gently, he folded Gilbert’s fingers over, closing them around his palm. “It’s okay if you don’t believe in it, but believe me.” He lifted his eyes to meet Gilbert’s. “Believe in your friend.”

Gilbert’s eyes rested on Matthew’s, the alpha’s hand still pressed between his. It was so cold, though Gilbert’s hands were always cold. Matthew did not mind, it was just an extra excuse to hold it. It was unclear how long they sat beneath a pink sky, staring into each other’s eyes; it could have been seconds or years, days or months, but it was enough time for Matthew to see the emotions flickering in Gilbert’s eyes. He was more complex than most seemed to realize, he was kinder than he himself seemed to realize, but he was magnificent and strong, selfless and brave, and loyal and rash. And he was… he was...

“I’m really tired, Birdie,” Gilbert whispered without removing his gaze.

Matthew smiled. “Then sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Gilbert left his hand in Matthew’s grip as he maneuvered himself, so he was curled on the ground with his cheek resting on top of Matthew’s right thigh. Their hands were at an awkward angle, one that could not be comfortable for Gilbert, but the alpha did not take it away. They rested on Matthew’s thigh, beside Gilbert’s lips. Every little breath Gilbert exhaled kissed Matthew’s hand, and the tingles left him breathless.

“Hey,” Gilbert murmured. “I meant what I said earlier, about never letting go of you.”

Some invisible force squeezed Matthew’s heart, and the feelings that flooded him were so different than the magic he felt the day before. Or maybe… maybe it was similar. The elation, the pounding heart, the fiery bloodstream. What kind of magic was this? He closed his eyes. He did not understand these feelings. “One day you may not have a choice.”

“If I’m as strong as you say, I’ll make sure of it. Gawain is a chivalrous knight, remember?” Slight humor entered Gilbert’s voice, and it caused Matthew’s heart to flutter. “He’s always there to save distressed maidens.”

Matthew opened his eyes. It was getting harder to breathe. “I don’t think it’s right to refer to Merlin as a maiden.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

Gilbert trailed off into silence. Matthew was almost thankful, he did not think he could continue to talk about such heavy topics, not without his heart exploding into a million pieces. His head was spinning, his heart was almost aching, and his hand, the one in Gilbert’s, was tingling. There were tiny sparks against his skin, glowing against him. The staff was at his side, the collar was paces away from them, and his knee was still throbbing; Ludwig had not awoken, Avalon was going to start a war with Norge, and King Arthur was still not with them. So many unanswered questions, so many hurdles they must get through to bring peace back to Esmya, but here, beneath this too pink sky, with Gilbert asleep at his side, Matthew felt like he could breathe. He could breathe, and relax, and _live_.

As the sun’s rays touched the forest, dry, chapped lips pressed themselves against Matthew’s hand. He closed his eyes, and pretended not to notice.

.

The specific moment consciousness started to seep into Ludwig’s mind was unknown, but it must have been around the time he processed a light behind his closed eyes, fingers running through his hair, and someone’s hand in his. There was a quiet hum in the air, too, with a voice that was as lovely and gentle as bluebells chiming in the wind. The humming song and soft touch were achingly familiar. They were constantly on his mind, reminding him of better, past years during lazy mornings and quiet nights, when he was alone with his precious mate.

Ludwig asked once before what song he was humming, and Feliciano had looked down at him with a smile that exposed his dimples, and said, “It’s a Raetian lullaby! I can sing it for you instead, if you would like, in the Old Language.”

Ludwig blinked, and the humming stopped. He could see the bare branches of the trees above him, and beyond that was a sky littered with gray clouds. None of that mattered, because there were amber eyes shining above him too. Flecks of gold and brown sparkled among the fields of amber, framed by long lashes and dark bruises. The expanse of pale skin was flawless, aside from a slight crook in his nose and the sprinklings of dried blood around it. Curly auburn hair fell around him, swept away from his forehead by a black scarf. It was meant to cover his ears. Feliciano. Feliciano was here.

The fingers brushing his hair paused, then resumed their gentle ministrations. Ludwig wanted to lean into the touch. Feliciano lowered his upper body slightly, so his face was closer to his. His head must be resting on Feliciano’s thighs. “Ludwig?”

He was dreaming. This was that same cruel dream he had night after night, where he lay in a field of wildflowers with his beloved mate, only to have him turn battered and abused, bleeding and bruising, and accusing Ludwig of the pain he was put through. That was going to happen, he knew it was.

“I’m dreaming,” he murmured before he could stop himself. His throat ached as he spoke, it was dry and scratchy; he could not remember the last time he had anything to drink.

Feliciano smiled. Oh, he was most certainly dreaming. “No, Ludwig. No. This is real. I promise you, this is real.” The hand in his hair dropped to his cheek. It did not strike him like so many others did, instead it cradled him, and stroked him, and held him. “I’m real.”

He claimed to be real. The thumb against his cheek ran small circles across the bone before the fingers lightly brushed their way down his face, to his chin. The same thumb stroked the horizontal scar Ludwig knew was there, traveling from the bottom of his lip to the underside of his chin. Feliciano’s eyes shone with tears as he stared at the scar, or maybe he was just looking at Ludwig. He blinked, and a single tear fell.

“I promise you,” he whispered with a shaky smile. “I promise I’m real.”

Even though Ludwig had not the faintest idea what was going on, the tear traveling down Feliciano’s face still broke his heart. Shakily, he lifted the hand not pressed in his mate’s grip and laid it against his cheek. Feliciano gasped softly. His cheek was so smooth, and cold, and it felt familiar beneath his palm. He brushed the stray tear away with his thumb.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered softly.

“Because,” Feliciano spluttered softly. Another tear fell, and then another, and he shook his head as he wiped at his face furiously, opposite of the side Ludwig’s hand rested on. His eyes closed as he took a deep breath. Ludwig could not look away. When Feliciano opened his eyes again, something like determination gleamed inside them. “Because I never thought I would see you again, but here you are. You’re here, you’re with me.”

He said it like he was trying to reassure himself.

Ludwig blinked again with his hand still cupping Feliciano’s cheek. He ran his thumb against the soft, tired bruise beneath an amber eye, catching the last tear that fell. “I-”

The smell of nectar hit him, the sweet scent of Fae blood, mingled with the scent of herbs and flowers, of lavender, thyme, dandelion, and yarrow. Scents he could detect anywhere, because it was the scent of his mate. And if it were mingled with blood… His stomach churned unpleasantly. There were flecks of dried blood around Feliciano’s nose, but there must be blood somewhere else if the scent was this strong.

“What… what happened?” he whispered. “You’re bleeding- you’re hurt. Who… who hurt you?”

He would kill whoever it was. Even if this was all a dream, he would make the bastard who made his mate bleed _pay_\- The hand on his face drew away to run along his own hand, still cupping Feliciano’s cheek. Feliciano leant into the touch as their fingers entwined. His lips were twisted down, and he looked so sad. It was killing Ludwig.

“You don’t remember?” he asked on a breath.

Remember? What was there to remember? It was so hard to remember certain things, but he was quite certain he had never seen Feliciano get hurt, because it was an alpha’s job to take care of their mate. The breeze surrounding them picked up, and it sent another wave of blood-scent into Ludwig’s nose. The scent coated his tongue, and it made him sick. He only wanted to scent Feliciano’s blood during intimate times, when an alpha was supposed to draw the blood of an omega. Not here, not in this random forest.

And then, all at once, the memories slammed back into him. It was like there was a fog inside his mind, disrupting the images, but he could still make them out. He could still see himself… He dropped his hand from Feliciano’s cheek as horror flooded his veins. He had tried to kill his mate, the one he vowed to protect no matter what. He had tried to kill his brother, the one who raised him after their father died, even though he wasn’t much older than Ludwig. He tried to kill them both, he had _hurt_ them. There was a pressure in his chest, thickening with every breath he took.

He could see Feliciano and Gilbert staring at him with fear in their eyes, with shaking knees and unsteady hands. He could _feel_ his retractable, shapeshifter claws digging through the skin across Feliciano’s hip, he could hear the blade of his sword tear through Gilbert’s arm, feeling so damn frustrated because it had not been Gilbert’s chest he had sliced. He had hurt his family, after promising to _protect_ them. His vision grew cloudy as growls and snarls, screams and pleads filled his ears. They were all from the past. Feliciano, Gilbert, strangers, people he was forced to hurt, everyone. He hurt his _mate_. No. No, no, no, no no no-

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Ludwig. It’s okay, I’m okay!”

The warm voice broke through the fog in his mind, pushing the violent images into the corners of his mind. He blinked a few times. The forest was still surrounding him, and the dark clouds still beyond the treetops. It took him a moment to realize he was on his knees. He did not even remember getting up.

Feliciano was in front of him, also on his knees. His hands were on Ludwig’s cheeks, and his face was so close to his they were almost sharing the same breath. No, Feliciano should not be this close to him. He hurt _him_, he was a horrible alpha, he was- Oh, gods, he was… “I’m- I’m so sor-”

“_Don’t_.” Feliciano did not release his hands from his cheeks, and he did not move back. “Do not apologize for anything, I won’t let you.” His voice was firm, but gentle. Always so gentle. “What you did- no. What that... that _thing_ made you do was not your fault. You were being controlled by something, I don’t know what, but you were being controlled, and you were trying so hard to-” The breath caught in his throat. “You were trying so hard to fight it, weren’t you? Because you didn’t want to hurt your family, and by doing so you were getting hurt. I’m right, aren’t I? So, please. Please, Ludwig. Please know none of this was your fault. Trust me, believe in your mate.”

Ludwig was frozen, completely at the mercy of Feliciano’s words. Controlled. He was being controlled. Without even thinking, Ludwig raised his hands to his neck. Skin and scabs. No cold, smooth stone, it was just skin and scabs. He loosed a breath as the foggy memories returned once more. A man with a staff was in front of him… then a golden light appeared in the shape of a person, and then the daemon inside of his head screamed. He could not remember anything after that. The collar was off. After two months of it being on, it was off. It explained his aching body and fuzzy memories, it was always like this when the collar came off.

Feliciano’s hands brushed over his cheeks, and Ludwig looked back up dazedly. A smile was waiting for him. Tears were falling from Feliciano’s eyes, making damp lines across his cheeks, but he was smiling softly. “You would never hurt me, Ludwig.”

_The daemon conjured up so many images of violence, always of Feliciano. Screaming, crying, begging for everything to stop. Innocence was ruined, tears permanently inked across his face, clothes shredded, everything was gone. There was nothing left of him, it had all been taken._

“I still did,” he whispered as a small tear slid down his cheek. “You can’t… I was the one who hurt you.”

Feliciano’s gentle hand brushed the tear away, but his eyes never left Ludwig’s. “It was not your fault. You tried stopping it, you even spoke to me a few times. You told me to run, you wanted me to get out of there. But I wasn’t going to.” His breath hitched on a small sob. “I would never run away from you, Ludwig.”

_He could still see the pained eyes of Feliciano, he could still hear his screams and cries. It always hurt, and Ludwig could do nothing about it. He could only listen to the daemon’s cruel words. Feliciano wanted this, he loved this, this is what was happening to him, keep watching it’s what you want-_

“Were you safe?” Ludwig did not feel his lips move. There was a ringing in his ears now, one so loud he could barely hear himself. He was petrified, but he had to know. He was not entirely sure if he would be able to live with himself depending on the answer, because it would be his fault. The pain, the suffering, the agony Feliciano had to go through would be his fault. “While I wasn’t- wasn’t there, were you safe?”

_The daemons words were on repeat in his head: **You know what happens to omegas like him, right? I bet you had to chase off so many alphas that wanted a bite, huh? Look what happened to him, look what other alphas did to him.**_

Feliciano pressed his forehead against Ludwig’s. The whisper of the daemon’s voice disappeared in his mind upon contact, and the ringing in his ears quieted. “Yes, _tesero mio_. I was perfectly safe. No one laid a hand on me.”

An invisible shackle around him snapped in two, releasing him from the ice cold prison of his fear-addled heart. Everything the daemon said were taunts. It’s what he tried telling himself, but he never knew for sure, not until this very moment. Feliciano was safe, he was okay. Even throughout the years Ludwig had not been there, Feliciano kept himself safe. Ludwig had long since lost faith in the gods and goddesses, but perhaps he should send a small prayer to them for keeping his beloved, incredible, timeless, wondrous mate safe.

More tears fell from his eyes, but they were not from the pain this time. A small sob was wrenched from his throat as he shakily wrapped his arms around Feliciano’s waist and collapsed against him, laying his head against the crook of his neck and burying his face against the chilled skin. Almost immediately, Feliciano’s hands were stroking the back of his head, bringing him in closer, wrapping him in layers of warmth, comfort, and love. In a quiet voice, he murmured, “Is that what you were afraid of? That others hurt me?”

_Yes_. Yes, that’s what he had been terrified of. Ludwig tried to push the daemon’s words, and his fears out of his mind as he clung desperately to Feliciano. He was _safe_. The damage that could have been done to him, physically and mentally, were nothing but a figment of his imagination, another tool for the daemon to torture him with. His shoulders shuddered as he closed his eyes to block out the painful imagery in his head, and instead focused on the one holding him. His breath hitched. Safe… Feliciano was safe, right here, with him. The small quivers of a smile cured against his lips even as tears continued falling from his eyes. His mate was okay.

“Oh, Ludwig,” Feliciano whispered above him in a thick voice. “You have no reason to cry, I’m- I’m fine.” He was crying, Ludwig knew he was. His floral scent was still sweet, but it was mixed with the smell of dying flowers, proving his distress. Ludwig clung tighter. “I’m fine now, because you’re here.”

“I’m here.” Ludwig could not stop himself from pressing his lips to Feliciano’s neck softly. He was met with a small shudder and a tightening grip. After nine long years apart, Ludwig was in the arms of his mate. It was incomprehensible. But here they were, holding each other as they sobbed. With his lips still pressed against Feliciano’s neck, he murmured, “I’m home, Feliciano.”

A loud cry was torn from Feliciano’s throat before he wrapped his legs around Ludwig’s waist and sat on top of his thighs, pressing their chests together and allowing them to be even closer to one another. “Oh. Oh, I _missed_ you, Ludwig. I missed you so much, I thought- every single day I thought about you.” Feliciano’s breath hitched on a sob. The sound cracked Ludwig’s heart. He brought a hand to the back of Feliciano’s head to draw him in. With his lips against his ear, his mate murmured, “I waited for you. I-I waited, there was no one else… I-”

“I know,” he murmured softly. He drew his face back from Feliciano’s neck, and took in the faint light trickling through the bare branches and resting atop Feliciano’s tear stained face and shimmering hair. He could barely smile as he brushed away the tears cascading down his beloved’s face. “I know, Feliciano. It’s okay.” Feliciano smiled through a sob, and pressed his hands against his cheeks again, wiping away his tears. Ludwig leant into the touch. “I missed you too. So… so much.”

The hellish days were made just a little brighter with thoughts of Feliciano. Images of his beautiful omega gardening, laughing with others, playing with the village children, helping anyone who seemed like they needed it, they were the only things that kept him sane in that hell. And the daemon tried to take those away from him. It almost succeeded. Almost. Ludwig pressed his forehead to Feliciano’s and breathed in his scent. No, it was not laced with another alpha’s. No one hurt him in a way that would have been incurable. Even if they had, Ludwig would still be here, ready to help him heal, but- but- No one ever truly healed from something like that. He shut the thoughts from his mind. They were okay.

Ludwig wrapped his arms back around Feliciano’s waist, nearly lifting him from his lap. He started at the feeling of bone beneath his hands. He was nothing more than skin and bone underneath his tunic. Had he not been eating properly? Had he starved? Gilbert should have taken care of him, and his brother was a gifted hunter. Food should not have been a problem.

“What happened?” he asked softly, running a hand down the bumpy spine along Feliciano’s back. “You haven’t been eating.”

Feliciano laughed breathlessly, his sweet breath tickling Ludwig’s lips. He drew his own hands across Ludwig’s shoulders and chest, as if he were mapping out the expanse of his body, familiarizing himself with it once again. “And you’ve gotten a lot bigger. You’re hard as stone!”

Fine, he would figure out how Feliciano lost so much weight later. A wave of protectiveness still flooded his veins at the feeling of the small weight around him, against him. Feliciano was safe now, the safest place for him was in the arms of his mate. It did not matter how small he was now, Ludwig would protect him. Always, Ludwig would always lay down his life for Feliciano. That was one thing that would never change.

Feliciano leaned back, and Ludwig did too, so he could look at his mate. They were both crying, their eyes bloodshot with bruises painted beneath them. Ludwig reached up and gently pulled the black scarf from Feliciano’s head, the memory of a hot night seventeen years ago playing in his mind, of Feliciano removing a different black scarf and wrapping it around a small wound across Ludwig’s bicep. He dropped the scarf, and the breath caught in his throat as the sun broke through the clouds and danced across Feliciano’s face. His pointed ears, his bouncing auburn hair, his sharp Fae features, and then Feliciano smiled. Dear gods, Ludwig could not breathe.

“You are still the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on,” Ludwig whispered. There was no Fae or shapeshifter, human or witch, alpha or omega who could ever compare to the beauty on Feliciano’s face and within his heart. “My Feliciano.”

Feliciano laughed as a sob lodged itself in his throat. “My Ludwig.” He unhooked one of his arms from around Ludwig’s shoulders and brought it between their chests. Ludwig did not need to look at it to know what he was doing. He laced his pinkie finger with Feliciano’s, and squeezed it softly. Feliciano spoke breathlessly. “My beautiful Ludwig. You’re home.”

Ludwig pulled him closer, needing to feel him and hold him, and make sure he wasn’t going to disappear. The tears would not stop falling from his eyes, but they didn’t matter, nothing did accept for the perfect omega in his arms. “May I kiss you?”

Once again, Feliciano laughed. He lowered himself as another tear fell from his amber eyes. “You never have to ask.” Then Feliciano’s soft lips were against his, and the entire world fell away. Their eyes were still open as their lips touched one another’s in what was barely a kiss. Feliciano’s were bright, as bright as jewels, and then they closed and he pressed himself closer. Ludwig allowed himself to close his own. He squeezed Feliciano’s pinkie again, deepening the kiss. It no longer seemed real. This could not be happening. But then Feliciano parted his lips, and their tongues were started a slow dance between their mouths, sliding against the other with quiet intensity. The cold wind did not bother Ludwig, nor did the slight ache in his knees from the position. Nothing could bother him right now, not as Feliciano made a small, soft noise of longing. It may have been a small sob, but that was okay. Ludwig would always be there for him when he cried. They parted for a moment, long enough for Ludwig to whisper,

“I’m here.”

Feliciano drew him back in with a gentle, “I know.” Their lips touched again, and everything inside of Ludwig burst into magnificent shades of colors. Feliciano made everything so beautiful. He made this ugly, cruel world bearable. And he was Ludwig’s, just as he was Feliciano’s. Ludwig pressed one final kiss against Feliciano’s lips before they drew away from one another, sharing small smiles with identical bright eyes. They were home. Feliciano rested his forehead against Ludwig’s shoulder, and Ludwig responded by pulling him closer.

Without any sort of warning, something cold began its climb up his spine, and did not stop until it was pressed against his mind. A pressure. It was more like the faint kiss of some kind of pressure, but it was still there, whispering against the back of his skull and enveloping his brain within its willowy grasp. Something tightened around his neck, and he flinched, bracing himself for the bursts of pain that always followed the tightening, but there was nothing. Nothing but his own hand against his neck, attempting to seek out the source of the strange sensation around him.

“Hey,” Feliciano murmured, his soft hand resting against the hand Ludwig had over his neck. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“What?” The cold sensation from his spine was slithering through his brain, wriggling through every crevice of his mind, and curling around the broken shards scattered on the ground. Cold and dark, just like that one room… down… down in the underground dungeon of Camelot’s palace… cold, dark, dripping with- with something. Blood- always blood. He could hear it now-

Feliciano’s hand stroked the top of his, the touch gentle and soothing, a light out of the _cold, dark dungeon_ and back into the forest. He shivered, and rested his forehead against Feliciano’s boney shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m fine. I’m just.” He faltered. He was, what? He was fine! Feliciano was with him, Gilbert was somewhere around them, he had his family back. That cold and dark thing in his mind was just the shadows of the collar and daemon, truly he was _fine_.

‘_Fucking liar_.’ “I’m just tired. The collar- it takes a lot of my energy.”

Feliciano hummed, the noise rumbling against Ludwig’s ear as it was pressed to the side of his neck. There was a moment of quiet, and Ludwig realized what he said. Feliciano knew nothing of the collar, he couldn’t know about it. Just that it had been controlling him. He would have to tell his mate, his sweet, gentle, innocent mate, what it was that collar, that daemon, _that king_ made him do. And then… then he would have no sweet, gentle, innocent mate.

“Ludwig.” Feliciano’s voice was barely above a breath. His scent twisted into something jittery, a nervous taste filling the air and Ludwig’s nostrils, since his nose was pressed against the spot where the scent glands were the strongest. It made Ludwig pick his head up in order to make sure he was okay. He clearly wasn’t, his red rimmed, amber eyes filling with tears once more. There was a crease between his eyebrows, a telltale sign he was trying his hardest not to cry. “Where were you? For, for nine years, I thought you were- were... I only just found out you were alive, and that was it. Nothing else. Can you- Am I allowed to know where you were?”

The question rattled Ludwig. It brought tears to his eyes, and he was so tired of crying. But the innocent question, the tear filled eyes, the tremoring voice, the attempt at a brave face, all of it broke his already mangled heart. He removed his hand from his neck, and placed it against Feliciano’s tear stained cheek. It was like he put too much pressure on glass, for as soon as his fingers delicately pushed against Feliciano’s skin, he burst into tears and shattered completely.

He crumbled against Ludwig’s chest, burying his face against his neck with a trembling body and seeking hands, grabbing hold of the leather chest piece. Instantaneously, Ludwig wrapped his arms around the narrow waist and pulled him closer, as close as they could possibly be without being sensual. Ludwig ran his fingers through the short, soft auburn strands, his mouth failing him the moment he needs it the most. He could tell Feliciano where he had been for nine years, his mate could know that much. He deserved it.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he murmured, closing his eyes as if that would block out all of the pain succumbing to them. The hazy, wondrous moments mere moments ago, of their lips sliding together and their soft smiles of happiness, were dissipating like a fog in the sunlight. It was making way for reality; the difficult questions, and the nine years of separation. “I’m right here, Feliciano. You can feel me, see?” He ran his hand down his mate’s back, and then back up. “I’m here.”

“I know,” Feliciano sobbed. “I know, I know, but you _weren’t_. And it’s not your fault, I know, but I’m scared, Ludwig. I’m so scared, and I don’t know why. Your scent- it’s so different, and you- I know you went through something awful, and I’m _scared_.”

Something awful. The details of how awful that something was is not something Feliciano needs to know. It would kill him. Ludwig pressed a shaking kiss to Feliciano’s temple before leaning back. Feliciano tried to chase after him, probably in order to hide his face again, but Ludwig did not allow him. He tilted his head down and pressed his forehead to Feliciano’s.

“Look at me.” Feliciano didn’t open his eyes. “Feliciano, look at me.” A heartbeat passed, but those eyelids lifted to reveal glossy amber eyes, still dripping with tears. That was okay. “You never need to be scared when you’re with me. I vowed I would always protect you-”

“_No_.” Feliciano let out a shuddering gasp and drew away, his Adam’s apple bobbing in desperation. “No, I don’t want you to repeat that vow, I don’t.” His hands were gone from the leather chest piece, rising to cup Ludwig’s face as Feliciano moved his head closer again. “If you’re going to throw away your life for me, I don’t want it. I _can’t_. I’m not scared for my safety, I’m just- I’m terrified and I don’t know why! I don’t know. But please, please tell me you won’t throw yourself in danger for my sake anymore, Ludwig, please because you can’t afford to do that. We need you, so please. Promise me.”

Shocked and heartbroken, Ludwig could only blink. He understood Feliciano’s fear, but he knew they could not put it into words right now, maybe not ever. This fear of what was to come. Nine years should not be a long time for immortals, but it was when they were apart.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I won’t.”

Feliciano heaved a small sigh, and then he fell against Ludwig again, small sniffles still being pulled from him. Carefully, Ludwig pressed his lips against every tear that fell, chasing them away with small whispers. “It’s okay”, “I’m right here”, “I’m not leaving you”. Feliciano’s cries quieted until they were nothing more than hitched breaths and tiny sniffles, but Ludwig did not loosen his grip, he did not lean away. He was content like this, until Feliciano was ready to move.

“I’m sorry,” Feliciano whispered. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just… I’m-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Ludwig whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss against the junction of Feliciano’s neck and shoulder, where a mated mark was hidden beneath a red tunic. It had probably faded. “Neither one of us need to apologize.”

Ludwig would apologize for his absence in Feliciano’s life, but he would never, ever apologize for telling him to run, for keeping the attention on himself that night nine years ago. A captive omega in Camelot’s palace was bad enough, but a Fae omega? Ludwig’s stomach tightened as he remembered just who was currently in Camelot, stalking the palace’s hall with one yellow eye and ashen skin, whose claws dripped with the golden blood of the Fae… who was currently itching to have their goblin hands on an omega Fae in order to produce an heir to the underground goblin throne. No. Ludwig would never apologize for that.

Feliciano rested his temple against Ludwig’s shoulder, and pressed a kiss to the snow white band he knew was around his neck, between the desperate marks he had carved into his own flesh in an attempt to get the collar off, but Feliciano did not shy away from them. He kissed them softly. Ludwig pressed his cheek against the top of Feliciano’s head, and took a deep breath. He had not yet answered Feliciano’s question.

“I was in Camelot for nine years.” Feliciano stiffened. “For the first two years, I was a slave. For the rest, I was a soldier. A general.” Commander of King Alexander’s shapeshifters, a prize in the eyes of the king. An inflictor of pain, an interrogator, with or without the collar on. “The collar-” He broke off to keep the tremble from his voice. “It was only put on when I left the palace. It is a tool designed by King Alexander to control some, ah, unwilling shapeshifters. I’m sure he’s tested it on others, too. In the palace, I was without it.”

“Oh.” It was such a simple answer, but then again, how does one reply to any of that? Feliciano must have questions, many of which Ludwig was not entirely sure he could answer, but all he said was, “Were you safe?”

It was a question he could not answer honestly. He closed his eyes, and whispered, “At times.”

“You could not escape?”

“I tried.” In the beginning, he tried. Constantly, always. But then, then Alexander grew suspicious. Why would someone who said he had nothing want to get out so badly? “I wanted to, Feliciano. All I ever thought about was seeing you again. Smelling your scent, touching your skin, feeling your lips, you were everywhere in my mind. But I could not get out.”

“But you’re here, you made it out.” Feliciano said it like he were trying to reassure himself, again.

Ludwig kissed the top of his head. This, he could say. It was not nearly as painful as what he refused to say now, perhaps ever. Feliciano did not need to hear it. “Yes.” He swallowed a growing knot in his throat, and pushed past the dark, cold swirling depths of his mind. “The King sends me on missions outside the palace sometimes, which is when I wear the collar.”

“Oh.” Feliciano slowly lifted his head, and blinked. “Yesterday, when you were- when the collar was one, I mean. Matthew kept saying he was the one you were after, because he was the witch. Were you looking for him?”

Ludwig did not know anyone named Matthew, but if he were the one known as ‘the witch’, then that was probably it. The cold darkness hovering at the edges of his mind crept closer, he could feel it. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “It takes a few days for me to remember what it was that happened while I had the collar on.” Oh. “Did you see any other shapeshifters in the uniform I have on?”

Feliciano tilted his head to the side. “You’re the only one. Why? Do you think they’re following us?”

“No, I…” Ten other shapeshifters, he remembered leaving the palace with them. They were labelled “elites”, even though they were not. They were just shapeshifters who volunteered to be a part of Avalon’s army, they were not taken and stored inside the dungeons like so many others. Where were they? His skin pricked uncomfortably, as if he did not want to know the answer. “I don’t know. We should be careful anyway.”

Ludwig was not even sure who this “we” was. Himself, Feliciano, the witch, Gilbert, maybe, and… He narrowed his eyes. “A boy,” he murmured unconsciously. Earlier events were slowly coming back to him. The daemon telling him to _killkillkill_ the two beneath him, staring at him with fear in their eyes, and then… then someone else appeared. Someone- their image was fuzzy in his head. He tried to concentrate on it. A boy with long blond hair and icy blue eyes, with sharp fangs that glittered defiantly as he screamed something. There had been some part of Ludwig’s instincts that made him stop. Never before had he felt something like it, not even with Feliciano, but it was strong enough to halt the daemon’s control if for a moment. Then Feliciano had started to speak- then a golden light- then. Then nothing.

“There was a boy,” Ludwig continued, pressing a hand to his head. Oh, it was beginning to _ache_. “Maybe? I don’t… It’s hard to remember.”

Feliciano’s hand enveloped his and drew it away from his face. Ludwig blinked. There was a soft smile tickling the corners of Feliciano’s lips, a welcoming sight compared to the sobs that had spilled from his mouth moments ago. His voice was still ragged from them as he said, “Yes, there is a boy with us.”

“Truly?”

“Mmhm.” Feliciano pressed his lips to the corner of Ludwig’s mouth, but he was too intrigued by the strange behavior his mate was implementing to comply to a kiss. “But, ah. I’m not too sure how to tell you this.”

Now Ludwig was truly lost. Feliciano’s scent was not distressed; in fact, the sweetening floral aroma was washing away the rest of his previous saddening scents. It was like a blossoming flower, Feliciano’s happy scent. He missed it. He could not stop himself from dipping his head to the juncture of his shoulder and neck, just for that sweet scent to intoxicate him further.

“You can tell me,” he murmured. “It can’t be anything bad.”

“No, actually, it’s far from it.” Long, boney arms snaked themselves around Ludwig’s head, and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scents that were completely wrapped around him. “Do you remember, Ludwig, the month before Versteckt was burned? My heat was later than usual, it arrived at the end of spring instead of the beginning.”

“Mmhm.” Ludwig smiled softly, and pressed closer. He was so comfortable like this. The lulling scent of lavender and other blooming herbs and flowers, Feliciano’s beautiful siren voice, and his soft touch, it was going to rock him to sleep.

But in his hazy mind, he did remember the last heat he spent with Feliciano. Every heat Feliciano had since they became mates, Ludwig had spent it with him. The sweet, captivating scent that came from his mate during the days of his heat made his heart race and his head fill with lust. And always, Feliciano looked so beautiful as he handed so much trust to Ludwig while he lay on their bed with his legs spread and his eyes glazed over with carnal desire. He almost shivered when he remembered the last one specifically, and how Feliciano had bit his neck, and moaned, and let himself go completely only in order for Ludwig to catch him and piece him back together.

Immortal heats were quite different from mortal ones, he realized that in Camelot. Immortal heats came once every year, around different times but the majority of them happened in the fall and winter so the babe could be born in the spring or summer. They were stronger than mortal’s, apparently, and lasted for two weeks instead of just one. It was much harder for an immortal omega to become pregnant this way. In fact, it was way more likely for a heat to pass without any fertilization.

They never truly tried for a child. It was common for immortals to wait and have children when they were well into their one hundreds, because they had time. Immortals had centuries, what was the rush? They had talked about it before, during the late hours of the night when they could not sleep and let their imaginations run wild. Ludwig warned Feliciano of the dangers of having a shapeshifter child; it put a strain on the body, and so many complications could arise. Ludwig’s own mother died after giving birth to him, though she had been mortal. Even so, Feliciano kissed him, soothed his worries, and said, “I’m not afraid.”

Out of everyone, it was _Gilbert_ who wanted them to have a child the most. “We’ll go on all sorts of adventures,” his brother had said one day. “If they’re an alpha, I’ll teach them how to use a bow! If they’re an omega, oh hell, I’ll teach them how to kick an alpha’s ass so they never have to worry about being afraid when they’re with a creep. So hurry up and make a kid!”

“Well,” Feliciano’s voice brought him back to the present. “The heat was a success.”

The words went right over Ludwig’s head, and then they came rushing back and slapped him right in the face. He pulled away, his mind clearing from the haze Feliciano’s scent created. Success meant pregnancy, pregnancy meant child, and child meant… “You mean...”

Feliciano’s smile began to tremble, but his scent was still sweet. He gently ran his fingers through Ludwig’s hair, and dipped his head. “You’re a father, Ludwig,” he whispered as a tear fell from his eye. “To a beautiful alpha shapeshifter, a son. His name is Elias. Elias Beilschmidt.”

_Elias Beilschmidt_. The name wrapped itself around Ludwig’s mind, chasing away the darkness and freezing cold. “I have a son?”

“Yes,” Feliciano breathed, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Yes, and he… oh, I can see you in him. Gilbert, too, and, actually, my own brother.” He smiled, and pressed his forehead to Ludwig’s once more. Ludwig was thankful for the touch, he felt like he was going to pass out without it. “He’s a force to be reckoned with, but he means well. He’s shy, and he- he feels too much so he acts like he doesn’t feel at all. And! He can turn into a black dire wolf, just like you.”

There were too many things spinning in Ludwig’s head. Too many emotions, too many thoughts, but he simply could not wrap his head around it. A son. A son named Elias, the middle name of his own father. Feliciano remembered that small detail. His chest was going to burst. “I have a son.”

Feliciano laughed, and wrapped his arms back around him. “Yes! Yes, we have a son!”

A noise spluttered from Ludwig before he could stop it. It may have been a laugh or a sob, it was hard to tell, but it was out of happiness. Pure joy. An alpha son who could shapeshift. A child he and Feliciano had, together. There were tears falling from his eyes, but he did not care to wipe them away. Each one reminded him he was a _father_.

“Elias, hey! Kid, I swear to the gods, I’m gonna make a leash for you, do you hear me?”

That voice, rugged and high and so familiar, drew Ludwig from the stupor of his mind. Slowly, he turned to the sound of the voice, Feliciano looking with him. A boy exploded from the trees, long hair messy and wild. He took one step, and then froze, blue eyes wide as they took in the scene in front of him. Ludwig could not breathe.

With a small gasp, Feliciano untangled himself from Ludwig, his warmth and sweet scent fading with him. He stood up, a shaky smile on his face. “Elias-”

He did not get to finish his sentence, because a moment later Gilbert stumbled from behind the same two trees, his face flushed and his eyes wild. “Gods, _Elias_. Do you ever listen?” Then he stopped, too. Everything stopped. Because Gilbert was there, his older brother, the one who took care of him after their father died. He was here.

Feliciano offered Ludwig a hand, and he took it as he climbed to his own feet. He did not know what to say. There was a cloth wrapped around Gilbert’s arm, hiding a wound caused by him. He looked older, though it should be impossible for an immortal to look so aged. Black circles spotted the pale spots beneath Gilbert’s tired eyes, and his hair looked more gray than white, but he was here. His brother.

Elias raced behind Gilbert, but Ludwig barely noticed. It did not seem Gilbert did either, because he started walking, toward Ludwig. “G-Gilbert, I…”

“Shut up,” Gilbert growled. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.” And then he was sprinting. Feliciano shuffled back as Gilbert flung himself at Ludwig with enough force, Ludwig actually stumbled, but he wrapped his arms around Gilbert’s narrow frame and buried his face into his brother’s neck and inhaled his scent anyway. Burnt leaves, smoke, iron, rugged smells that never seemed to leave Gilbert. They tickled his nose, reminding him of home, just as Feliciano’s scent had done.

Gilbert was shaking something fierce, but Ludwig did not question it, not as Gilbert gripped his back and pressed his face into his neck. Together. They were together again. The last time Ludwig had seen his brother, there had been tears in those red eyes. His strong, relentless brother had been close to shattering, but here he was. Whole again. Another scent was close to Gilbert’s, one that was much too sweet to belong to him. Maples and the earth. Who did that scent belong to? He could ask later when they were no longer quietly crying and clinging to each other. He felt like a child again, five years-old, trembling in a dark forest with no one but Gilbert at his side.

“Where’s Dad?” he had asked. “Where is our stepmother?” There had not been a reply. “Gilbert?”

“Hush.” Then Gilbert, ten years-old, wrapped his arms around Ludwig and pulled him close. Tears and snot were on their faces, but they knew they could not keep crying. They had to be brave now. They did not have any other choice. “We’re gonna be okay. We have to be.”

“By the fucking gods,” Gilbert hissed as he lifted his head. Ludwig almost wanted to look away, because it was so unnatural to see someone as strong as his brother cry. He pressed his hands against Ludwig’s cheeks, and practically slammed their foreheads together. “Don’t you ever- _ever_ do something that stupid and reckless again, you hear me? Never! You wanna play that hero shit again, fine. But I’m gonna be there with you, don’t tell me to take care of your mate! That was dirty, runt. You- gods damnit, you selfless idiot!”

Ludwig may have been laughing, or crying, or both. His shoulders were shaking and so were his hands, but that was okay, because Gilbert was shaking too. “I missed you too,” Ludwig murmured, closing his eyes. He wrapped his arms back around Gilbert and pulled him close. In a rough voice, he whispered, “_Ich habe dich vermisst, bruder_.”

“_Ja_,” Gilbert whispered, his voice softening. “_Ich auch, Brüderchen_.”

They looked at each other as they parted, silent memories playing between them. Ludwig wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t. He was tongue tied. So he mustered up the only thing he could say. “Thank you.”

Because Gilbert had done what Ludwig asked him to do. He had taken care of his mate. The brightness in Gilbert’s eyes dimmed, and he lowered his head. “Don’t.” He patted Ludwig’s shoulder, and stepped back, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Gods, I hate this feeling-shit nonsense.”

Ludwig almost laughed. It was such a Gilbert thing to say, and he missed hearing those annoying and unnecessary things his brother always said. His eyes raised to the spot beyond his brother, where Feliciano was kneeling on the ground in front of Elias, and speaking with him softly. Gilbert followed his gaze.

“Sorry if we interrupted a moment,” he said in a voice deeper than earlier, as if he were trying to hide the fact he cried. “That damn kid, no sense of rules! He wanted to see Feli, but I told him no, but does he listen? _No_.”

“It’s… it’s okay. Feliciano was just in the middle of telling me about, about him,” he finished lamely.

“What are you waiting for?” Gilbert nudged him forward. “Go say hello!”

Ludwig’s heart flipped right into his stomach, thundering madly. “No, I- I think I’ll wait until he wants to.” He didn’t know what to say to a child! He had never… never…

Elias’s gaze slid past Feliciano and stared directly at him, pinning him with such an intense look that it rendered Ludwig the ability to breathe. That cold, dark thing shimmering at the edges of his mind suddenly pounced and latched itself on him, slithering through every crevice in his mind, shocking him, hurting him. Elias was no longer staring at him, he changed completely. His hair turned black, stopping right below his ears in a bob cut. _He_ changed into a _she_.

Sakura was blinking at him with wide tear filled eyes. “Don’t go!” she cried. “Please, don’t leave us!”

Then Feliciano changed, morphed into someone smaller, slighter, with black hair and a different complexion, a different skin tone. Brown eyes blinked at him, fierce, and protective, and determined. “If you are ever able to get out of here, Ludwig,” came the accented voice, “Take my daughter with you. She cannot stay here, you know what will happen to her.”

And then so many voices began to rain down on him, each one cutting him like a knife.

Sakura. _“Ludwig, don’t go! It’s scary here without you, and_ Okaasan _still isn’t back. Where is he? Why does he always disappear? Why do they always hurt_ Okaasan?”

Kiku. “_That is who her father is. Only you and the Queen know, but I am afraid others will find out. He may find out. Please, guard her. I beg of you_.”

Arthur. “_Thank you, Ludwig. I’m so sorry, I am, but thank you. Thank you_.”

And Alfred. “_If you ever lay a hand on him again, I will- I will hurt you. I don’t care who you are, don’t you ever touch him again. Hear me_?”

“Ludwig? Ludwig! It’s okay, Ludwig, it’s okay. Just concentrate on my voice, it’s okay.”

A strangled gasp was pulled from Ludwig, and the darkness surrounding his mind vanished, disappearing back into the unseeable shadows. He coughed, eyes on the ground beneath him. The very close ground. He was once again kneeling on the forest floor. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and he had half the mind to wipe it away. Someone was stroking his back, someone else was holding his hand. Gilbert and Feliciano. Feliciano was the one who had spoken.

“Fine,” he managed to choke out. “Fine, I’m fine.”

“Cleary, that’s bullshit,” Gilbert growled. “What was that? It’s like you disappeared, or your mind did. Where did you go?”

Feliciano’s voice was strained as he said, “Gil, please.”

Gilbert huffed, but did not say anything else. Ludwig leant his body against Feliciano’s, seeking the comfort of his mate again. This was not something he was used to handling with others around. Flashbacks, all muddled together. Always, whenever the collar came off, they always assaulted him in the initial days after it was off. Flashbacks, night terrors, pain. And now his mate had to see him this way.

His… his son.

“Are you okay?” Feliciano asked gently, stroking the back of his head. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” Ludwig forced himself to say again in a steadier voice. He pressed his hands to his eyes with enough force it caused black spots to dance behind his eyelids. “Just… just happens sometimes. I’m really fine.”

There was a moment of silence. Ludwig wished someone would say something, he didn’t want them to think something was wrong with him because _nothing was, he was perfectly fine, couldn’t they see that_?

“Who are Sakura and Kiku?” a small, quiet voice asked from somewhere in front of him. He looked up. Elias had not moved from his spot. His hands were fiddling with the hem of his black tunic, the sleeves of his red shirt cuffed and streaked with dirt. His eyes were fixed on the hand Feliciano had on Ludwig’s. “You were shouting their names.”

Ludwig blinked, dumbfounded. Had he really done that? Feliciano made a chiding noise in the back of his throat. “Elias.”

“What? You told me to talk to him...”

“I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s okay,” Ludwig murmured, flipping his hand over in order to take Feliciano’s. He rubbed his thumb across his mate’s knuckles before bringing the slighter hand to his lips and pressing a faint kiss to it. “I don’t mind the question.” Feliciano’s eyes held concern, as did his scent, but he nodded anyway. Ludwig turned back to Elias. Elias’s blue eyes were narrowed. Intelligent. The eyes of a hunter.

“Kiku is an omega friend of mine.” Friend? He supposed it was accurate to refer to the quiet omega as a friend, though they didn’t do any sort of friendly activities together. “He is a shapeshifter, his animal form is a _kitsune_.”

Elias’s narrowed eyes widened slightly. “What’s that?”

“It used to be a creature of Ishini,” Ludwig explained. “A fox with the ability to grow nine tails. Kiku only has two. Sakura is his daughter, and she’s just like him in regards to being a shifter. She’s nine years-old, just as old as you.” He glanced at Feliciano, and he nodded with a soft smile. Nine years-old. Nine years of separation. He took in a deep breath. “They live inside Camelot’s palace, and they are…” He recalled the slurs from omegas of nobility, the whistles from alphas, and the jeers from betas. His stomach twisted. “They are not treated well.”

Ludwig had only seen a handful of others inside the palace treat Kiku and Sakura with any sort of friendliness or respect. Prince Alfred was one of them, Ludwig had seen them together many times. When Ludwig started living within Camelot’s palace, a few years after he was prisoned inside the city, Prince Alfred was ten years old. He was always at Kiku’s side, running around the omega, asking for stories, begging for him to shift. That amiable relationship never changed. The Prince treated Kiku like a true friend, and he treated Sakura like one too. Ludwig caught him racing down the halls of the palace with the girl on his shoulders, yelling at him to go faster. The Prince had immediately stopped upon seeing Ludwig, and sheepishly turned in the other direction.

Captain Bonnefoy was another one who was always there for Kiku, though Ludwig had yet to see the Captain of the Royal Guard be anything but kind and respectful to an omega. He smiled charmingly, asked Kiku and Sakura to join him for dinner on more than one occasion. He was a good man, Ludwig liked him a lot even though they did not speak much. Captain Bonnefoy had even let go of one of his guards after they said something inappropriate to Kiku.

Finally, there was the Queen’s personal guard Herakles. His surname was unknown to Ludwig, as was his title, and he never heard the man say one word- he could not, the King cursed him silent- but actions speak louder than words. Herakles was constantly there for Kiku and Sakura, like a shadow on the wall. He looked out for them, probably more so that he should, but when he was around, no one dared to mess with them. Captain Bonnefoy claimed it was love, but Ludwig didn’t really see it. He just saw a good alpha looking out for a mother and daughter. Then again, he had been told by more than one person he was quite dense in love affairs, so what did he know?

“You’re not this girl’s father, are you?” Gilbert asked slowly, suspiciously.

Feliciano actually hissed. “_Gilbert_.” Ludwig was more startled by that then the question Gilbert asked.

“What? I’m just asking, Feli! If he’s Lancelot, then, well…” He trailed off, and grumbled, “You know.”

That sentence made no sense whatsoever, but Ludwig was much too tired to decipher it right now, so he just shook his head and squeezed Feliciano’s hand. “No, Gilbert. I am not the father, please never ask me that again.” Sakura’s father. He shivered, and kept his eyes on the ground. “Her father is King Alexander.”

Gilbert inhaled sharply, and Feliciano leant closer. He was grateful for the extra warmth. “But… but Kiku is not the queen.”

Oh, if only it were that simple. He needed to speak to his brother later about the Queen of Avalon, but it could wait until they were alone. Ludwig closed his eyes. His heartbeat began to pick up speed. “He is not, but that does not matter to Alexander.”

“Does he know?” Gilbert whispered, as if this were a secret. It was.

“No, only I do, and a few others.” He swallowed a growing lump in his throat, a familiar, angry lump that formed whenever he thought of Sakura and her father. “But if he figured it out, if he realized he had an omega daughter he could mate off to a kingdom or neighboring continent…” He shook his head. “I promised Kiku I would get Sakura out of the palace if I were ever to escape, just as Kiku promised me he would find the two of you if he ever escaped.”

Feliciano’s voice was soft as he whispered, “So you’re going back to Camelot?”

“I made a promise to Kiku,” he replied slowly. Yes, he made a promise to his friend, but his family was here, right in front of him. He couldn’t leave them- wouldn’t leave them again, but he could not allow them to step foot inside of Camelot. Not like this. “But-”

“Well, that’s a coincidence!” Feliciano exclaimed, smiling. “Because we’re going to Camelot too. Actually, we’re going to the palace! Oh, Ludwig! We can help you rescue Sakura!”

Well. That was unexpected- not Feliciano offering to help, his mate had always been selfless. He blinked, trying to find the words, but Gilbert beat him to it. “Yeah, it’s a long story, but don’t worry. We’ll explain everything to you, but not here. I think we should get back to Matthew, in case someone else finds us.”

“I agree.” Feliciano kissed Ludwig’s temple. “Can you stand?”

Instead of nodding, Ludwig got to his feet. This was ridiculous, his mate should not be worrying about him so much. He should be taking care of his omega. He did not let go of Feliciano’s hand as Gilbert led them away from their little opening in the trees. They did not walk far until they were in an area almost identical to the one they had previously occupied.

A white dire bear was sprawled out on his side, blinking at them curiously. He did not stiffen, nor did he growl. He just sniffed the air, and closed his eyes. The dire bear is not what made Ludwig freeze in his tracks. No, it was the young man sitting with his back to a tree and a staff across his lap. He was smiling gently, the smile widening slightly when lavender- familiar lavender eyes landed on Gilbert. His skin was pale, as was his blond hair. It curled and bounced beside his ears, with one long curl on the top of his head. If it were shorter, if he had one cowlick, if his eyes were blue… He would not be looking at a witch, but at the Crowned Prince of Camelot, His Highness Alfred Jones Pendragon. Son of King Alexander and Queen Ayia- Victoria.

The Queen told him once before, “_Alfred was not my first child with Alexander_.”

“Ludwig!” Gilbert’s strangely excited voice startled Ludwig out of his mind. Gods, he needed to stop falling into his imagination. “This is Matthew Williams! He’s the one who saved you.”

The one who used the golden light. The one who took the collar from his neck. This Prince-Alfred-Look-Alike. Matthew smiled sheepishly, but he did not get up from the ground. “I couldn’t have done it without Feliciano.”

Regardless of the thoughts spinning around in his mind, Ludwig placed a fist to his heart and lowered his upper body. A grand gesture, one that had been beaten into him by those in Camelot’s palace. He tilted his head down, and said, “I sincerely thank you, Matthew.”

He meant it. By the gods, did he mean it.

“Oh, I- No, please. It’s okay! I’m very glad to have done it, truly.”

And then Feliciano’s grip in his hand began to slip, and the slight omega was almost falling to the ground. Elias let out a shout, but Ludwig was there with his arms around Feliciano, pulling him to his chest. He pressed a hand to his mate’s forehead. It wasn’t warm, no fever.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice. “Here, let’s sit down.”

Gently, he lowered himself to the ground, and took Feliciano with him. He sat Feliciano between his legs, and immediately Feliciano pressed his cheek into Ludwig’s chest. Ludwig responded by wrapping his arms around his middle and pulling him close. “I’m fine,” Feliciano whispered, blinking at him with drooping amber eyes. “I’m just really tired.”

“No surprise there,” Gilbert, who had lurched forward in preparation to catch Feliciano, murmured. “You haven’t slept at all!”

And there were wounds on him, not to mention the stress he must have been under. Not paying attention to the others around them, Ludwig lowered his head to kiss the side of Feliciano’s neck. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of you, and your wounds.”

Feliciano made a small noise of disagreement, and pressed his face into Ludwig’s neck, shielding himself from the world. That was fine, Ludwig would always be his shield. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, and hungry.”

“I think we all are.” Gilbert walked over to Matthew, and snatched a bow and quiver from the ground, along with a rucksack. He padded back over and handed the rucksack to Ludwig. “Here, this is Feli’s. He’s got all his herbs and poultices in there.” Ludwig laid it beside him before wrapping his arm back around his mate’s small waist. “Alright, come on, Elias. Let your mom rest, and hang out with your cool uncle! We’ll bring him back something delicious!”

Elias did not move for a moment. His eyes were on Feliciano, intense curiosity on his face. Ludwig almost wanted to let go of Feliciano, he felt like he was doing something wrong with such an intense stare pinned to him. However, he understood the stare. Elias didn’t _want_ Ludwig to hold his mother in such a way. He probably was not used to any alpha holding his mother in any kind of way, so this was something foreign, and he didn’t like it. Ludwig wanted to _apologize_ but he did not know why. He tried to open his mouth to say something to the boy, but nothing came out. Thankfully, Feliciano drew his head away, and smiled sleepily at Elias.

“Go on, _mein kleiner_. I’ll be okay, Ludwig is going to take care of me!” The words warmed Ludwig, and sent a million sparks across his skin. Yes, he was going to take care of his mate. He could do that without any sort of problems.

Elias narrowed his eyes and then silently turned away to face Gilbert, only Gilbert was back beside Matthew, patting the top of his head and laughing as Matthew tried to swat his hand away. “You’ve got real soft hair, Birdie. How cute.”

“You’re just jealous because my hair doesn’t feel like hay, unlike yours.”

“My hair does not- You know what, screw you. I’m not going to bring you back anything. Now be a good Birdie and tell Ludwig about the quest we’re on. Elias, let’s go!” He stalked off, the bow and quivers at his back. Elias looked almost green as he stumbled away. Ludwig’s superior shapeshifter hearing picked up the mumbled, “adults are disgusting,” from Elias.

Ludwig pressed his lips to Feliciano’s ear, and whispered, “Gilbert and Matthew aren’t, uh, mates, are they?”

“Ah, no.” Feliciano turned his body to the side, and nestled further into Ludwig’s chest, his scent sweetening even further. Ludwig could not stop himself from kissing his temple. He just couldn’t stop himself from kissing and touching his mate, he never wanted to. “Not yet, at least. They’ll figure it out eventually.” Feliciano rested his hands atop Ludwig’s arms, and mumbled, “Don’t leave me until I wake up.”

“Of course.” He kissed Feliciano’s cheek. “I’ll be here, I promise.”

Feliciano hummed, and then, softly, he whispered, “I love you, Ludwig.”

Ludwig had grown accustomed to words acting as daggers, slicing his body with a thousand wounds, and making him bleed. The blood was never noticed, it dripped from his wounds for days, years, but these words, those four beautiful words, were stitches. They closed the wounds decorating his body, and made sure not a single drop of blood escaped. They healed him. He nuzzled Feliciano’s temple, and whispered against his ear,

“And I love you, Feliciano.”

A few seconds later, Feliciano’s breathing evened with a small smile on his face. Ludwig reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from his face, tucking behind a pointed ear. Beautiful, in every sense of the word. Ludwig wished he could hold him like this for the rest of eternity, but there would come a day, most likely someday soon, when Feliciano would leave him, and for good reason. He shoved the future from his mind, and forced himself to focus on the present.

Because there was something quite dire in the present, and it was in front of him, fiddling with a staff. Ludwig wrapped his pinkie finger around Feliciano’s and squeezed it, but he did not receive one in reply. Feliciano was asleep.

“I am curious to know more of this quest,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. “But I have a question I would like to ask you first.”

“Oh.” Matthew smiled. “Okay. I will try to answer.”

Ludwig slowly pulled his gaze from Feliciano, and stared at Matthew. He knew his brother, knew him better than most. He knew Gilbert would never openly flirt with someone who was the son of the man he hated most. Gilbert always hated King Alexander, hated him from the moment their father had been burned at the stake by men who wore the emblem of the king. He would not wear the scent of one with Pendragon blood in them. Unless something in Gilbert changed, he would never do such a thing. And Ludwig highly doubted his stubborn brother changed that drastically.

“They do not know, do they?” he asked softly. Feliciano did not stir. He was far gone, lost to the exhaustion that had silently eaten away at him.

Matthew’s fiddling hands froze. His lavender eyes, the eyes of Queen Ayiana, his stepmother, his father’s _mate_, widened behind wiry glasses. “Know what?” But he knew. He knew, because a moment later, Matthew looked down, looked away, and closed his eyes in anticipation.

“They do not know you are the first born son of the King and Queen of Avalon, Philip Jones Pendragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, the reason for this slight delay in the chapter is that a) I started working on other fics, which I would be grateful if you read *cough*, and b) I needed to change the outline for this story, and that requires time. And energy. But here it is! Hope everyone is safe and healthy!


	14. Quiet Deceptive Seer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a slight warning: GerIta for the majority of this chapter and the next, then we're back to some heavy angst filled PruCan.

“They do not know you are the first born son of the King and Queen of Avalon, Phillip Jones Pendragon.”

Ludwig knew. He knew. Gilbert’s brother, Feliciano’s mate, Elias’s father _knew_.

The name Phillip Jones Pendragon drowned out every other noise surrounding Matthew- the wind, the gentle snores coming from Kuma, the birds chirping in the distance- until there was nothing in his ears but the deep, guttural sound of his true name being said by Ludwig. It started as a whisper, nothing more than a gentle breeze, but then it grew louder and stronger, roaring like a Glacerian winter storm until it was all Matthew could hear. His tongue turned to lead, and his airways turned to straw. He could not produce a single sound, and the only thing his mind could come up with was, _He knows_.

The corners of his vision began to blur as black spots danced around the edges. Heat prick his skin, numbing him, burning him, scalding him; he could feel his face flushing from it all, of the exposure and shame and mortification. Adhan may have given him the name of Matthew Williams, a common first and last Avalonian name, but it could never wash away his true name, the one that tainted his bloodstream. Phillip Jones Pendragon. The _Fabula_ knew who he was, it was written on the first page, but the people he came to know as friends did not know. His throat tightened as he took in Feliciano curled against Ludwig’s chest, dozing within his arms.

His father had been responsible for Ludwig and Feliciano’s separation, and the gods only knew how many other atrocities had been committed to his friends because of Avalon’s King. A gasp was wrenched from him as he stared at the mated pair, only he was not taking anything in. His mind had flown back to a dark cave on a cold snowy night with Gilbert, shivering and sobbing, opened his chest and gave Matthew his heart as he brokenly told the story of what happened to himself and Feliciano nine years ago, of how he thought Feliciano had died. It did not matter that Feliciano was alive and with him now, years of trauma don’t just disappear because things suddenly get better.

Even after Gilbert spilled his guts after nine years of silence, Matthew had not told him.

“How?” The words were ragged, as if they were torn from his throat. He could not feel his lips moving either. “How do you know?”

It was hard to decipher the emotions on Ludwig’s stone cold face. His lips were a firm straight line and his eyes were narrowed slightly, the hands resting on Feliciano’s stomach unflinching and steady. Maybe, just maybe, Ludwig would kill him. He would find him to be a threat, and would end his life. “Your physical appearance is similar to that of the Crown Prince, Alfred.”

His brother, the little brother he never met. News did not travel quickly around the steppes of Glaceria, but the witches of his mother’s coven who traveled into Avalon, a very rare excursion, came back with the occasional gossip. Prince Alfred, who was always getting into some type of mischief. Prince Alfred, who laughed loudly and smiled readily. Prince Alfred, who was given a young personal guard for his tenth birthday. After his tenth birthday, he stayed out of the public eye but it didn’t matter. It had become too dangerous for witches to travel to Avalon anyway.

Something tightened in Matthew’s chest, and an unbearable heat burned in the pit of his stomach. He lurched forward with a great sense of nausea. It was enough to wake Kuma. The sensation left without anything leaving his stomach. Sweating, Matthew forced himself to rest the back of his head against the tree. He could not be too loud, lest he wake Feliciano up, and then he would have to explain to a dear friend who he was. Ludwig was merciful enough to bring this up without anyone else listening, Matthew should at least repay that kindness with answered questions. Ludwig probably deserved it, considering he had been through hell if the collar and dark circles beneath his eyes were anything to go by. The black bruises may even be a permanent feature for the shapeshifter.

“Yes,” he breathed, his chest tightening further as he forced himself to speak, to confirm who he truly was. “King Alexander and Queen Ayiana are my parents. I was found when I was two weeks old in the forest bordering Camelot by a witch, who took me in and raised me as her own.”

Ludwig blinked slowly. “She knew who you were?”

“Ayiana swaddled me in a blanket with the royal mark stitched inside of it along with my initials,” Matthew murmured, recalling what Adhan told him years ago. “Then news passed of the King and Queen’s first child having been born with a twisted knee, a beta at that, and that he died two weeks later due to natural causes. My mother easily put two-and-two together.”

Adhan kept the blue blanket. Matthew held it as she told him the story, his wide eyes staring at the cursive initials stitched inside the blanket. _P.J.P_. “Ayiana must have seen who it was that would find me,” he continued softly, the tightening in his chest disappearing with every word he spoke. “And decided to stitch the royal seal and my initials into the blanket. She would not have given away such information to a stranger she knew nothing about or someone with malicious intent.”

Slowly, Matthew met Ludwig’s gaze again. He did not know how many people knew of Ayiana’s Sight ability. Why should a shapeshifter? But Ludwig did not look surprised, just contemplative, and quite intimidating. His facial expression was bordering on angry as he regarded Matthew. But then he looked down, took in Feliciano’s peaceful sleeping expression, and sighed.

“Ayiana told me she had a vision of a witch who would raise her first son properly. I know you’re telling the truth.”

It was Matthew’s turn to blink in surprise. Why would the Queen give away such information to, well, whatever it was Ludwig had been in Camelot, because it was clear he was there by the uniform he wore. Not to mention, it was almost common knowledge among Avalon of the super soldier project Alexander was conducting on predator shapeshifters. The way Ludwig said her name was interesting too. It did not sound awkward or clumped together, it was a familiar sound to him. He was used to saying her name without any title, but more importantly, he was used to saying her true name and not the one every other soul knew her as, Victoria.

But it was not Matthew’s place to know what Ludwig was to his birth mother. He did not deserve to know anything like that until his own secret was out in the open. “Will you kill me?”

Ludwig stiffened, his gaze still on Feliciano. He lifted a hand and stroked the Fae’s cheek, prompting a soft smile from the omega. “I have no reason to harm you,” he murmured in a voice filled with exhaustion. “I would be foolish to think you were a spy from Camelot; Ayiana would have told me that if it were the case. But.” He looked up, and Matthew’s heart leapt into his throat. A storm was unleashed across Ludwig’s face.

“I do wish to know why you think it is okay to lead _my_ family into danger without telling them who you are. I don’t know why you are headed to Camelot, but you think they will be safe with the man the King himself sought to get rid of? You could have them killed, and they would not even know why.”

The words were cruel, and they scorched Matthew’s skin again. “I-” The words died on his tongue. What could he possibly say? That he was going to tell them? Eventually he would, but he did not know when. If ever. He should have told them as soon as they met, that would have been the honorable thing to do. But he didn’t, and now it was too late. “I’m sorry.”

Ludwig leveled him with a hard stare, so intense Matthew wanted to flee. He felt like a rabbit staring into the eyes of a wolf. “You are deceiving them. I have no idea how long you have known them, or how you even met them, but it doesn’t really matter. Deception is deception, regardless of the time span. You need to tell them.” He blinked, and the intensity was gone. He looked back down at Feliciano, who was still asleep. “I would not do something as dishonorable as expose you to them, or even push you for that matter, but the longer this goes on, the worse it will be for everyone involved.”

Once again, Matthew felt ill. Ludwig was right, of course he was, but he could not understand what would happen if this secret came out. Feliciano may stare at him with fear in his eyes, he may even keep Elias away from him. Hell, he may take Elias and go back to the Orlon Forest. And Gilbert… Gilbert who hated the crown and the Pendragon name so vehemently, he may be the one to kill Matthew. The event mere hours ago played in his mind, of Gilbert trusting him and laying his head on his thigh, of allowing him to run his fingers through soft and brittle white hair. Then the night a month ago at the tavern rang through his head, of Gilbert spitting and hissing, his fangs so close to Matthew’s neck... He swallowed back a whimper.

“They will hate me,” he whispered, and he realized that is what hurt him so. Maybe he would not lose Gawain and Elain, but he would lose Gilbert and Feliciano, and that hurt. The thought literally made his chest tighten and ache all over again. “They will.”

Ludwig was quiet. In a low voice, he said, “They will not hate you for your last name.” Then he looked up, his eyes narrowed again. “But they will hate you for lying to them.”

.

Ludwig did not remember drifting off, but he must have because the forest around him was completely empty when he opened his eyes. A quick sniff of the air gave nothing away, there was absolutely no one around, and no one had been around for some time.

For a moment, panic seized him and he grasped his neck. Everything had been a dream. There was no Feliciano, no Gilbert, no Elias. Just… His hands shook as he ran his fingers over his neck. No stone collar, just a smooth band of skin around his neck with bumpy scabs surrounding it.

The collar may not be on, but that didn’t explain this strange… dream? Was it accurate to call this such a name? He dropped his hands and looked around with narrowed eyes, trying to take in every inch of his surroundings. This looked to be the same spacious forest he woke up in. The sun was beginning to lower, but there bits of blue emerging behind dark clouds. The day had not yet faded to twilight. This felt strange; the only dreams he felt this coherent in were the ones given to him by the daemon. Could there be a remnant of the daemon lurking in his mind? The air in his lungs constricted at such a thought.

“Hello there,” came a deep voice from behind.

Ludwig spun on his heel, his hand immediately reaching behind him where the hilt of his sword poked up next to his head. The Zweihander was released from its sheath, and stood poised and ready to harm the intruder before him. “Who are you?”

It was a broad shouldered man with shoulder length black hair and scruff across his jaw, and bright blue eyes chipped with ice. He wore a black uniform, similar to that of Ludwig’s, but there was no chest piece with the King’s emblem across it. In its place was a brightly shining silver piece- actual armor then- with a vertical outline of a dragon in flight. That was the emblem of Avalon’s Queen. It was outdated, used during Avalon’s apparent ancient times before some old king decided to change the Queen’s emblem to a gentle dove. Who was this man?

A black wolf’s pelt was slung over his shoulder, and a large sword rested at his hip. An obvious warrior, even if there was a faint smile on his face. It was friendly, just like his bright eyes. Ludwig would not be fooled, he had met men who smiled before they delivered wicked attacks, usually to him. He sniffed the air in order to gain the man’s scent and typing, though appearance alone told him he was an alpha, but there was nothing in the air.

“I should be the one asking you that,” the man said with a small incline of his head. “The Ludwig Beilschmidt I know does not raise his sword before asking questions.”

Ludwig growled. “I don’t recall us ever meeting.” Oh, this was ridiculous. He lowered his blade, pressing the tip of it into the ground in order to gain a free hand. He brushed it over his face, resisting the urge to groan. “Why am I speaking with a figment of my imagination? This is just a dream.”

“Ever the realist,” the man chuckled. “Yes, this is a dream, but I do not find it wise to call me a figment of your imagination, good sir. My name is Lancelot, King Arthur’s Right Hand.”

Gods above, he was losing his mind.

Lancelot. Such a strange name, there was only one person ever known as such, and he was from a children’s storybook. As a shapeshifter who lived in the tribes, surrounded by other shifters, the myths of Avalon were only ever told in passing. There was a legendary king, a sword, and knights, one of which who was named Lancelot. As a child, Ludwig never understood why the stories glorified an apparent chivalrous knight who slept with the wife of his King, or why Lancelot was never seen as the villain.

“Okay, sure,” he muttered, dropping his hand from his face to stare at the man. “And you’re speaking to me because..?”

“Lancelot’s” friendly smile shortened, replaced by a gentle upward quirk of his lips. “Because you have been found.”

That was enough. Ludwig shook his head, and picked his blade from the dirt in order to slide it back into its sheath. He did not want to hear shit like this from some apparent, self-proclaimed “non-figment of his imagination” calling themselves Lancelot. He was exhausted, that’s why his mind was giving him such crazy dreams. Well, if he had so much free reign in this dream, he could turn around and walk away. He began to twist his upper body, but his feet were not moving. He bent his knees, but when he tried to pick up his feet, they did not move an inch from the ground.

“You’re scared, Ludwig,” said the man as he began to walk closer. “Of many things.”

“I am not,” he snarled, giving up on his feet. He could shift, or fight like this if he needed to, but for now he just leveled the man with a glare. “Stop acting like you know me.”

The man ignored the last sentence. “You’re scared of your mate leaving you.”

Something in Ludwig’s heart stuttered at the thought of Feliciano. He accepted the few words Ludwig said earlier of where he had been for nine years, even though he knew there was more. He did not push or prod, question or disbelieve. But when the time came for Ludwig to tell Feliciano what happened to him, what he had _done_… “I don’t want to talk about mates with you, especially if you’re “Lancelot”.”

Something darkened in Lancelot’s blue eyes, but it was gone before Ludwig could be sure it was ever there to begin with. He sighed. “Mistakes were made on my part, I am not going to deny that, but you should realize it was the people who chose to glorify my mistakes. Tell me, have you ever read the original story?”

Ludwig narrowed his eyes further. This man was making absolutely no sense, but for some odd reason, the hair on his arms was beginning to stand up. His instincts, much stronger in shapeshifters than any other intelligent creature, were trying to tell him something. “I am not from Avalon, of course I haven’t read the original story.”

“No one has,” the man sighed again. Then he looked up, his eyes piercing straight into Ludwig’s. A chill went down his spine. Lancelot’s eyes were _Ludwig’s_ eyes. “Your words were hypocritical. Everything you said to Merlin earlier about his own deception.” He did not know who Merlin was. “Tell me, were you really talking to him, or to yourself?”

A flash of green eyes appeared in his mind, eyes that sparkled like the leaves on the trees during summer. Determination and indifference battled for dominance in those eyes, but it didn’t matter what front he tried to make, Ludwig could smell the fear and horror coming off of him in waves. “I’m sorry,” Ludwig had said to him. “We have no choice.”

“It was either you or them,” the green eyed man murmured with a voice choked in disbelief. “Why? We’re not friends, why would you do this for me?”

“Because a long time ago my mate was in a similar situation, and I saved him from it. He would want me to do the same for someone else.”

Ludwig felt sick as the old conversation rolled around in his mind. Yes, Feliciano would want him to save another omega from a psychologically damaging fate, but to do what he had done in order to save the omega? Of course Feliciano wouldn’t want that, and he was a disgusting bastard alpha for saying he would.

He pushed the green eyed omega from his mind, and growled in a voice filled with hatred, “Like I said, I do not want to talk about this with you.”

Lancelot stared at him with a face that was no longer friendly. His stare was hard, calculating, and Ludwig did not like how it reminded him so much of his own face. Then the knight resumed his walk to him. He tried to slink back, but his feet were still stitched into the earth, so he could do absolutely nothing as Lancelot placed his hands on his shoulders, and then he became completely immobilized.

It was as if someone tied rope around his bones and nailed it to the ground. He could not move a single muscle. All he could do was stare at Lancelot with widening eyes and a useless mouth, for his tongue was another muscle that proved to be useless. Lancelot’s thick fingers dug into his shoulders, but it did not hurt. Even so, Ludwig wanted to wrench out of his touch. He wanted to scream for this man to get away.

“Your destiny is more than you believe it to be,” Lancelot murmured. “To Camelot and to Raetia. You will become the sword and shield of two rulers, just as I.”

He smiled then, gentle and kind, completely unaware of how his words were beginning to shatter Ludwig’s skin, his heart, as if he were completely made of glass. “Follow Merlin. He will lead you to your destiny.”

Lancelot’s skin turned lighter until it was as pale as the snow. The scruff along his face disappeared, just as the lengths of his hair did, changing completely until Ludwig was staring at himself. His throat tightened. What was going on?

The hands on his shoulders dropped, and he watched himself step back. “Follow Merlin, Lancelot the _Berserkr_.”

He turned around and, as if that were that, began to walk away. No. No, no, _no_. Ludwig forced himself to grit his teeth and swallow the inability to speak. It was all he could do. “_No_,” he forced out, his eyes pinned on whatever was walking away from him. They did not turn around to look at him. “If you think I’m going to willingly become a ruler’s _weapon_ again, you’re full of fucking shit.”

Light exploded around him, and his body gave a violent jerk. Someone said, “Whoa, are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Ludwig blinked. And then blinked again. He was in the same forest, and he was leaning against a tree. Matthew was across from him with a leather bound book in his lap, but his eyes were on Gilbert, who was standing above him holding the carcasses of two rabbits with Elias at his side. He looked down. Feliciano was in his lap, staring at him with wide amber eyes. They softened when they met his own.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” What had that dream been? Why did it feel so… so real? He swallowed the strange lump in his throat, and tried to concentrate on his breathing. He did not recall falling asleep, it must have been sometime after his conversation with Matthew, and it could not have been for that long if Gilbert and Elias were back. Realistically, it couldn’t have been enough time to have such a vivid dream. Right? “I’m fine. I just…”

Feliciano’s eyes darkened until they were no longer his eyes at all. They were green. There was no softness to them, no kindness or concern. His breath hitched, and then the eyes vanished, replaced once again by the bright amber of his mate. “Ludwig?”

Ludwig forced himself to smile softly. “I just had a weird dream, not a nightmare.” He leant down to kiss the top of Feliciano’s head, willing everything to go away until there was nothing left but the two of them, but then he froze right as his lips grazed auburn hair. Such a notion wasn’t fair. He leant away. “Are you feeling better?”

Seeming a bit caught off guard, Feliciano blinked, and smiled. “Oh, yes. I think a little nap was long overdue.” He pressed a kiss to Ludwig’s cheek before standing up and brushing himself off. “I’m going to change into another tunic I have since this one is kind of messy. I’ll be right back!” He smiled brightly, and it tore through Ludwig’s chest, just as the kiss had burned through his flesh.

Ludwig truly was a hypocrite.

.

They had rested for long enough. Matthew was grateful the others agreed they should start moving, even though the sun had set and the stars were no doubt twinkling behind the heavy clouds still hanging lowly in the sky. After they roasted the rather pitiful food caught by Gilbert and Elias, Matthew announced they should start walking, they could not afford to waste two entire days of zero movement.

Still unable to walk, Matthew climbed atop of Kuma, with Elias gaping at him the entire time. Apparently the little shifter was fascinated by the fact one could ride a dire bear. Matthew was still atop his familiar as they walked through the forest, Gilbert in the lead. Elias marched at his side, waving a little stick around, and at the rear were Feliciano and Ludwig. Matthew could feel the alpha’s eyes on his back, but he knew it was not because Ludwig did not trust him.

No, it had to do with the item in his satchel. The collar. Before they left, they stood around the ominous collar and debated on what they should do with it.

“Let’s bury the damn thing,” Gilbert had suggested.

“It’s filled with dark magic,” Matthew pointed out. “The last place you want to put anything with dark magic is in the ground, it will gain more power by sucking the nutrients right out of the earth.”

“We can’t just leave it,” Feliciano had murmured. Matthew would never forget the haunted look in the Fae’s eyes as he stared at the collar. What had the usually gentle omega been thinking?

“Let’s take it with us,” Ludwig, of all people, had said quietly. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Ludwig promised it could not be activated unless the King performed some sort of magic, but that did not make it any less creepy. Matthew decided to take care of it, even though Gilbert protested about the dangers it could cause, but Matthew countered his words by reminding him he was a witch. He was used to things like talisman and grimoires that were infused with magic. He could handle this. That’s why it rested inside his satchel, though he did remove the _Fabula_ and decided to hold the book rather than risk the collar doing something to it, even if it was “deactivated”.

“So,” Ludwig’s voice rumbled from the back, drawing Matthew from his thoughts. “From what you told me, you’re heading to Camelot to put a new king on the throne, and you know this rightful king lives in Camelot’s palace because someone known as the Green Knight told you, and you believed him?”

They were also in the midst of telling Ludwig about their quest. Matthew held his breath. He had a funny feeling Ludwig would either not believe them, or find the whole thing to be ridiculous and undoable. If the alpha’s tone was anything to go by, it was probably going to be the latter.

“The Green Knight also told us you were alive,” Gilbert added, twisting his head around. His red eyes flashed, and Matthew looked at his lap as his chest tightened. He could not even stare at his friend without having the guilt eat away at him. “Which, no offense, seemed way less likely than some rightful king. So yeah, we believe him.” He paused. “The green bastard also told us you were Lancelot.”

There was an abrupt pause behind Matthew, followed by Feliciano saying, “Ludwig?”

Their steps continued. “Again with the Lancelot thing,” Ludwig almost growled. “You said something earlier regarding him. What does that mean? I’m Lancelot, a fictional knight?”

They had not yet explained this particular part. How would the alpha react? Matthew drew in a deep breath. “The characters from Avalonian myth, like King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot, are apparently real. Or at least, there are people currently alive who are based on the myths. I had a vision nine years ago telling me I am to find King Arthur and his court, for only they can save Esmya from the darkness brought by Alexander. It sounds weird, I know, but it’s the truth.”

“You’re trying to find people from a child’s bedtime story?” Ludwig asked in disbelief. Matthew was glad he could not see his face.

“I’ve already found two of them,” Matthew replied. “Gilbert is Sir Gawain, and Feliciano is someone named Elain. And.” He looked over at Elias. “Elias may be Galahad, but that’s a bit unclear.”

Ludwig did not speak for a moment. “What.”

“I had a dream,” Feliciano said gently. “Right after I gave birth to Elias. There was a beautiful female Fae who told me I needed to follow Merlin, and then she turned into me and called me Elain the Faerie.”

“Me, too,” Gilbert murmured. “I had a dream that was basically the exact same, only Gawain spoke to me, and called me Gawain the White Wolf. Apparently that’s what happens. You wouldn’t have happened to have any dreams like that, would you, Ludwig?”

Because if Ludwig did not receive such a dream, it could mean he actually wasn’t Lancelot. Matthew pushed the thought from his mind. When he realized Gilbert was Gawain, Gilbert had not received the dream either, it happened later on. Perhaps Ludwig would be like his brother in that aspect. “They were both told to follow Merlin, and I am, apparently, Merlin.”

To Matthew, it did not sound odd. Since he was nine years-old, he poured everything he had into figuring out all he could about Avalon’s biggest and most important myth, the stories that had been turned into nothing more than a children’s bedtime story. The stories that spoke of a king who would come to them in their darkest hour, with a legendary court filled with chivalrous knights, and a sword named Excalibur. To others, however, he knew it sounded little less than insanity.

“I know it sounds-”

“Wait a minute,” interrupted Ludwig. “You’re not going to find just any ‘rightful Avalonian king’. You’re actually looking for King Arthur, a _fictional man_ used centuries ago to unite Avalon into a kingdom. That’s what you’re doing?”

Matthew felt like he was telling this to Gilbert all over again from the disbelief and slight rage. Only this time, the stakes were higher, because Feliciano and Gilbert could choose to stop this quest, to go back to their old lives… But if they did that, their lives would be over soon enough because Esmya would be brought to her knees until her last drop of blood was taken from her.

He rolled his shoulders back in order sit up straighter. He needed to play his cards carefully, lest something like Ludwig leaving and taking Feliciano with him were to happen. “That is exactly what I’m doing. I am a Seer, Ludwig. I have been given visions and omens of the futures, and it is enough to tell me I need to find King Arthur. He is real, just as Merlin, Gawain, and Elain are.” He turned his head to the side in order to meet Ludwig’s stormy gaze. “Just as Lancelot is.”

Ludwig’s eyes were glowing, the blue bright and icy. They looked so very lupine in the darkness. Like earlier, Matthew felt his instincts tell him to look away from the alpha’s challenging gaze, and this time, the instincts were much more powerful than when he was looking at Gilbert’s. Ludwig bared his teeth and loosed a growl, the perfect image of an angry alpha, but still Matthew did not look away. He just met the stare with a determined face. He may be a beta, but he could be a beta with a backbone. Even if his heart was thundering so loudly one of the immortals here could probably hear it.

Mercifully, Feliciano took Ludwig’s hand and brushed his thumb over the knuckles. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Ludwig, but I trust Matthew! He led us to you, after all.”

Ludwig’s gaze hardened for a moment, but then his shoulders slumped and the challenging fire across his face disappeared, replaced by simple exhaustion. A tired alpha who has fought for too long. Matthew was actually amazed Feliciano could calm him down so quickly. Ludwig looked down at his mate. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, the words most definitely not directed at Matthew.

“Matthew,” he continued said not-so-softly. “Lancelot was in love with Guinevere, which is one of the only things people remember him for, but you said Feliciano is someone named Elain.” His eyes flashed again as he lifted his gaze back up. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Matthew recalled a conversation with Feliciano during their short stay in Berkley. Feliciano said many alphas did not even speak to him because they found Ludwig too intimidating. At first, Matthew had not understood, but now he did. Oh, gods, did he understand now. He swallowed the tightness trying so hard to take control of his throat, the beta instincts screaming at him to submit to the alpha.

“The stories are not accurate to our lives,” he replied. “If they were, I would be an old man, and you and Gilbert would not be brothers, as Gawain and Lancelot were not related. Whoever the Guinevere in this world is may not have anything to do with you at all. They may just be a brother or sister in arms, and that is it. The real Lancelot and Guinevere are not destined to fall in love, I promise.”

“Besides,” Feliciano said cheerfully, prompting Ludwig to look away from Matthew. “I’m not worried, you know I’m not, because you would never do something like that! It’s not accurate, Ludwig. Trust Matthew when he says that.”

Matthew turned his head back around to give them some privacy, even if Ludwig did not immediately reply. He looked toward the cloudy sky, wishing the stars were visible. He did not want to tell Ludwig, or any of them for that matter, how doubtful he was becoming. By this point, he thought King Arthur would be with them. He took a small, calming breath. Or maybe it was too soon. There had been a whisper in the wind on the night of Yule: _Before Arthur, there is Lancelot_. Now that Ludwig was with them, they could focus on King Arthur; that is, _if_ Ludwig truly were Lancelot. They needed to test it. As if knowing it was needed, the staff at his back began to warm.

“I think the forest is ending,” Elias piped up, sniffing the air. “It smells like… a meadow?”

Ahead of them, clustered together in lumps of dormant greenery, was a group of brambles and shrubs with a slight opening in the center, parting way for darkness. Matthew tried to recall the map. They were coming up on Avalon’s rolling hills, and were getting closer to the Wye River, the largest mass of fresh water on the kingdom that fed into Avalon’s only eastern border, the Albion Sea. The quickest route to Bannockburn and, ultimately, Camelot was by crossing the Wye River, a feat that would prove to be tricky. Kuma could swim one or two of them across, but would need to rest after that. Perhaps Ludwig could do it too, in his wolf form.

“He’s right,” Ludwig suddenly said, startling Matthew. The alpha walked around Kuma and stood beside his brother, his lips parted as he drank in the scents in front of them. “We need to be careful when we leave the forest since we’re going to be completely out in the open.”

“Wanna put the others in the middle?” Gilbert asked. “I can lead, and you can keep at the back?”

Matthew chewed his bottom lip. They needed to do this before they lost their protection, just in case someone was lurking around beyond the forest. “Wait.” Gilbert and Ludwig turned to him. He unhooked the staff from his back and met Ludwig’s gaze. “I want to make sure you’re Lancelot first.”

The storm came back with a vengeance as Ludwig stared at Matthew, and then looked down at the staff in his hands. His eyes widened slightly. Matthew wondered if he recognized this as the item that freed him from the collar. And then, in the softest voice Matthew has yet to hear from him, he said, “It does not matter if I am Lancelot, nor does it matter who this ‘King Arthur’ is. It is impossible to stop Alexander.” He narrowed his eyes. “You realize this, right?”

Matthew did not flinch. Ludwig was wrong, he had to be. “Please, take the staff.”

Even a beta could sense the discomfort and concern rising in the air as Feliciano, Gilbert, and Elias looked from him to Ludwig. The forest was silent around them, as if it were waiting for that storm to break. A chilling thought crept through Matthew’s skin as he remembered the man standing before him was the same man who hurt Gilbert and Feliciano, who threatened a child to get what he wanted, and who still wore the emblem of Avalon’s King. Could such a man truly be Lancelot? This was also the man who Gilbert rushed to without a second thought, who he had clung to like a boy, and this was the man who held his mate as he slept, and who cleansed his wounds with such delicacy, Feliciano had not even stirred. This was the man who promised to keep his secret simply because it was not his place to give it away. That was the real Ludwig. Even if he were grumpy and harsh, he was a good man. Matthew could tell.

“What will happen when if I take it?” Ludwig asked.

“It will glow,” Feliciano replied softly. “When I held it, that’s what happened. It did the same thing with Gil too.”

Ludwig dropped his gaze to the staff. “Why?”

“Just pick it up!” Gilbert exclaimed. “Matthew can explain everything to you later.”

The alpha did not reach for it. His eyebrows were knitted together, and there was a slight downward curve to his lips. He looked uneasy. Matthew realized why the exact moment Feliciano did. The Fae walked closer, and took the staff. It did not glow in his hands. “If I can do it, you can since you’re so much stronger than me. It doesn’t hurt at all! If you really are Lancelot, the runes along it will glow, or maybe the whole thing will glow like it did with me. In a second, it disappears, and it’s over! There’s nothing to be concerned with.”

If the only person who could ‘activate’ the collar was Alexander, it was likely there was some kind of magic involved with it, and if that was the only type of magic Ludwig had been around, it was more than likely he did not trust it. Guilt welled within Matthew’s chest. He shouldn’t have asked Ludwig to do this.

But then Ludwig met Feliciano’s stare, and took the staff from him. Feliciano smiled brightly. “There.”

Gilbert and Elias leaned forward, and Matthew tried not to follow suit. The staff was clearly visible in Ludwig’s hands, but the runes did not glow. That was okay, it took a while for it to glow when Feliciano held it too. Ludwig ran a thumb across one of the runes, the shadow across his face hiding his expression. Then the shadow was chased away as the runes began to glow gold.

Matthew resisted the urge to gasp, even as Feliciano did. Brighter they became until it seemed the entire staff was alight with the burning gold. Ludwig’s eyes were wide and his mouth had fallen open. He looked so surprised, Matthew was actually a bit concerned he would drop the staff. But he didn’t, it stayed clutched in his hands. A breeze rustled the tops of the branches, and with it a name was being spoken.

_Lancelot. Lancelot. Lancelot._

“You are Lancelot,” Matthew whispered.

Gilbert laughed. “Look at that.” The sound was such a beautiful song to Matthew that he tore his gaze from the glowing to staff to look at him. His red eyes were bronze in the golden light, his skin a shade darker. He was an ethereal being right now, beauty, and grace, and everything in between. A wild creature unchained by the world around them. The bronze eyes slid to Matthew, and the breath caught in his throat.

‘_Gilbert will never forgive you when he learns the truth_,’ a cruel voice whispered from Matthew’s head. It was enough to make him look away, because it was right. By the gods, there had never been a truer statement. This wasn’t the time. His eyes fell back on Ludwig right as the light began to dim. It vanished back into the runes and went out completely, just like every other time. There was a still silence among the group now; Ludwig seemed to be completely frozen as he stared at the staff still in his hands.

The silence was broken by Elias’s whispered, “It did the same thing to you, _Mamma_.”

Ludwig blinked a few times, eyes never leaving the staff. “What was that?”

“Faerie magic,” Matthew said softly just as the forest seemed to start breathing again after its initial pause. “It’s the same kind of magic Feliciano and I used to take your collar off. The staff somehow recognizes everyone who is a part of King Arthur’s court. I don’t know how, honestly.” He frowned, remembering when he thought the staff used to be an extension of himself. That was before it turned into a stranger. “There is much about it I am unfamiliar with.”

“But this is wonderful!” Feliciano exclaimed, giving a little bounce. “Ludwig, you’re a part of this quest now!” Then he stopped, his eyebrows drawing together. His nose gave a little twitch as he leant closer to his mate. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Gilbert said as he walked over, placing a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder. He grinned. “It took me a while to get the magnitude of this. I still don’t really understand everything, but what I completely understand is that we’re gonna knock that bastard king on his ass! We’ll put a new king on that throne, someone who isn’t a Pendragon.”

The words raked through Matthew’s heart, leaving him breathless again, only this time it was a different sort of breathlessness, one caused by true fear. He brought this on himself.

Slowly, Ludwig spoke. “Faerie magic” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Faerie magic works against daemons?”

“What do you mean?” Feliciano asked just as Matthew’s eyes widened. Slowly, his gaze met Gilbert’s. Faerie magic worked against the collar, which was clearly composed of dark magic, and it was created by King Alexander. If Faerie magic worked against it… It seemed it clicked for Feliciano too because he gasped. “Oh!”

“Raetia was destroyed under King Uther’s command fifty-two years ago,” Matthew whispered, recalling his lessons from long ago. “He was the king who found the outlawed dark magic. Do you think he destroyed Raetia, and Alexander has been hunting the Fae because the Fae are the only ones who can stop the dark army?”

If that were the case, it suddenly made perfect sense why the Faerie Queen needed to be found during this time. And if Feliciano’s horrified expression were anything to go by, he realized it too.

“It may just be a hunch,” Ludwig murmured, finally dropping his gaze from the staff. His eyes found Matthew as he handed the staff back to him. “But it may be true. His Majesty- Alexander does not keep Fae prisoners.” The ominous unsaid words were chilling as the wind overhead.

“This will require research.” Matthew took the staff from Ludwig, and the forest fell away.

The world grew lighter, and even though it was hot, there was no visible sun. Blearily, Matthew looked to the sky. Dark clouds hung low, the sun no more than a faint disk behind the gray. He nearly gasped from the clarity of the sky. Usually in visions like these, like the ones he had of Gilbert and Feliciano, there was a darkness at the corners of every image, trying to consume his sight and the scenes before him. But not here. What was different? Where was Ludwig?

Matthew looked down in order to gain his surroundings. He was standing in the midst of what looked to be an old city with white stone houses and green rooftops. Oddly enough, there were overhanging trees everywhere, as if this place were built in the middle of a forest. The road was made of cobblestone, but not a single soul was on it. He turned his head, trying to look for more detail, and there it was. Further away, easily towering over the shops and houses, was a white stoned palace. A capital city then.

“Why the hell should we trust you? You’re a shapeshifter! You expect us to follow you into battle?! Do we look like fools to you?”

A different voice laughed. “You think we want to fight with you Fae? That’s hilarious!”

Where were those voices coming from? He gasped as figures began materializing from thin air. They were all behind him, a huge group of people. Some had the sharp features of the Fae, others looked just like humans, though he had a funny feeling they were shapeshifters. Two stood very close to one another with lips pulled back in the beginnings of snarls.

There was a flash of red. Matthew almost gasped as Ludwig walked to his side, facing the Fae and shifters before them. He was clad in black, but it was not the same uniform he currently wore. They were fighting leathers, fit with black armor around his shins, shoulders, and chest, but that was not what shocked Matthew. It was the cape. Red as a sunset, with the head of a wolf stitched on the back, and a rising sun behind the head, its rays squiggly and crooked. The wolf, the sunrise, that used to be on Raetia’s flag, and if he wore a red cape, which is what the Legatus of Raetia wore, according to Catalina then… then…

“That is enough!” Ludwig shouted in a voice that was made to be listened to. The bickering pair froze and turned their eyes to him. “We are on our way to fight, and yet you’re still divided? What sort of army is this?” The shapeshifter and Faerie turned their glares back on each other. Matthew realized that Ludwig was right, they were divided. The group was literally split down the middle. This wasn’t good.

Ludwig raised his chin, and Matthew’s stomach dropped. From his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek was a horrific scar. It even went over his left eye. Claw marks, something had clawed his face. “You can stand here all day and bicker about old customs and stereotypes, I really don’t care. Act like ignorant children if you have no other way to spend your time.” He unsheathed his blade and pointed it to the white palace. “_But don’t forget your Queen is risking their life for every single one of you right now_. They are fighting for Esmya’s future! They have offered shapeshifters a home here once this war is over, and they are trying their hardest to accommodate every single wish of the Fae! But, what? Centuries of bloodshed and indifference between our two species means you’re just going to ignore that? You’re going to let your Queen down because you can’t get along? That is despicable.”

He lowered his blade, digging the tip between two cobblestones and holding the hilt with steady hands. The hot wind ruffled his red cape, but his expression remained hardened. Unbothered. Ludwig looked like a king. “You can choose to keep your old customs and follow the gods who seemed to have abandoned Esmya, or you can choose to fight for your Queen who is real in flesh and blood.” He narrowed his eyes against the wind. “I know who I am fighting for.”

“And so do I.” Matthew nearly gasped as a male stepped out from Ludwig’s other side. It was Antonio. He could see his face perfectly. At his back, a red cape flapped in the warm breeze, identical to Ludwig’s. Did that make them both Legatus’s of _Raetia’s army_? Raetia no longer had an army… How- When was this taking place? How far into the future? “I fight for the Faerie Queen.”

The Faerie Queen. Holy gods.

“As do I.” One of the Fae from the front stepped forward, and Matthew brought a hand to his mouth. Govert. And beside him, smirking like a cat, was Manon.

“For the Faerie Queen,” she exclaimed.

“I, too, fight for the Faerie Queen.” The next person who stepped forward was unknown to Matthew, but they came from the cluster of shapeshifters. He was one of the most gorgeous men Matthew has ever seen. Rich brown hair, violet eyes hidden behind glasses- His face began to blur. Because Matthew had not met him in person? “I will fight to the death.”

“Cheers to that!” Matthew nearly cried out when Gilbert jumped beside the brunet. He was beautiful and flawless, with blazing eyes on Ludwig as he pressed a fist to his heart and bowed his head. “For the Faerie Queen!”

“For the Faerie Queen! For the Faerie Queen!”

The cheers turned deafening as Fae and shapeshifters raised their weapons and screamed their battle cry over and over again. Matthew was shocked. A combined army of Fae and shapeshifters, all shouting one name. He looked to Ludwig who had not moved a single muscle. He yanked his blade from the cobblestones and turned on his heel, Antonio matching his movement as if the two had been doing it together for years.

“Then give your heart to your Queen!”

Somehow, Matthew was able to follow after Ludwig and Antonio. He was moving completely on his own, and keeping pace with them. His knee did not even hurt. As the cheers sounded behind them, Matthew noticed Ludwig was shaking slightly. So was Antonio. Antonio lowered his head as he and Ludwig stalked down the street together with their army at their backs.

“We should be with them,” the Fae growled.

“I know,” Ludwig replied. There was an explosion from the direction of the palace, and Ludwig closed his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath. “But they trusted us enough to do this. What sort of commanders would we be if we disobeyed our first orders?”

Antonio almost laughed. “They would strip us from our status in the middle of the square!”

Ludwig sent him a wry grin as his eyes brightened. Not with humor, but with the anticipation of an upcoming battle. “We fight for them.”

“Then let’s lead the way.” Antonio’s smile turned genuine as he looked to Ludwig. “Brother.”

And then Fae and shapeshifter broke into a run with their army streaming out behind them.

The world exploded in white. Matthew gasped as the world came rushing back to him in unfathomable intensity. He dropped the staff in his hands in order to grip his head. Pain flooded his senses, numbing him from the rest of his surroundings. Someone was speaking to him hurriedly, someone else was touching him, but he could not hear or feel anything thanks to the obliterating pain erupting over his skin, consuming his entire being. A loud ringing began in his ears, and he may have cried out. Then there were familiar voices.

_“I can’t do this, I can’t! What makes you think I can? Look at me! I can barely fight!”_

_“Where is my mate?”_

_“Birdie, I have to do this. Don’t cry for me, it’ll be okay.”_

They continued to roar in his ears, playing again and again with the maddening ringing. The voices and ringing erupted his eardrums to the point of him briefly wondering, through the pain and noise, if his ears were bleeding. Images shredded his mind. They were too bright for him to make out, but the ones that briefly paused, that gave him enough time to catch glimpses… oh gods.

Matthew couldn’t help it, he screamed. His senses were overloaded, but at the same time it was like he was floating through nothing but darkness and shadows. There was nothing to grasp, just an abyss of noise like his visions were years ago before they miraculously calmed down. But through the darkness, he felt a hand grasp his arm, wrenching him away from the shadows creeping through him and dragging him down, down, down…

“Listen to my voice, Birdie. Listen to me!” A rough, accented voice now achingly familiar to Matthew. Was it real? He did not know, but the grip on his arm was real, it must be because he was able to lean into it. “I need you to open your eyes, okay? Listen to me, Birdie. Open your eyes, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The voice spoke beside his ear, cold and chapped lips touching the edge of it with every word spoken. He wanted to lean into the voice even as he felt his body convulse, and listened as his ears rang in a harmony of white noise. The voice was a soothing touch, and it seemed to calm him. Somehow, the voice was calming him. The ringing in his ears disappeared, as did the onslaught of unwelcoming voices until there was nothing left but the accented voice at his ear.

Slowly, Matthew peeled his eyes open and found Gilbert staring down at him. His red eyes softened, and a tiny smile lifted his lips. “There you go. Nothing to be afraid of.”

He was no longer sitting on Kuma’s back. Instead he was in Gilbert’s arms, the alpha standing and cradling him to his chest. He did not know Gilbert possessed such strength. Blearily, he looked around. Feliciano was inching closer with widened, calculating eyes- probably wondering what he could do as a healer. Ludwig and Elias looked equally horrified behind him. Matthew wanted to tell everyone he was fine. He was fine now.

His head moved slowly as he met Gilbert’s eyes and forced himself to smile. “I’m fine.”

And then he passed out.

.

There was no telling how much time passed before Matthew finally opened his eyes. It would be impossible to tell time here, because he was not truly awake. The cavernous darkness encasing him on all sides, his ability to stand without any sort of pain, and his lack of physical feeling told him this was a vision. Another vision. His body tremored. So many in such a little amount of time. This was not normal.

It must mean something big was on the horizon. He pushed the small concern from his mind, and took a look around, trying to find something, anything, in the darkness. He did not need to look for long.

He turned his body to the left or right- it was very hard to tell- in order to face the three figures in front of him. A path was led to each figure, all tall and broad by their outlines, meaning they were most likely alphas, but that was all Matthew could really make out. He held his breath. There was a path of frost leading to the one on the right, with chips of ice and frost slowly appearing on the figure’s body. Upon their head was a glorious silver crown that glistened just like the ice around its wearer, the top parts peaking like snowy mountain caps. It shimmered, and Matthew realized the crown was not made of silver, but _diamond_. In the heart of the crown rested a blue jewel, the only speck of color encrusted along the crown.

A cold accented voice came from the figure, slow and careful, as if the common language was not something the man was used to. “_A king is just a man with a crown; he is not truly a king until he has a court behind him, ready to spill their blood for his sake and cause. Give them a reason to bow at your presence, and raise their sword with your own. You best remember that, boy.”_

Matthew looked to the figure at the far left where a path of crackling blue lightning led to a noticeably smaller figure where the lightning curled around their body. It provided enough light to tell Matthew this was not a man, but a woman. Or perhaps female depending on what she was, and from the crown atop her head, she was not human. Actually, no, it wasn’t a crown but a headdress. The material of what it was made from remained unknown as other things rested on top of it, like leaves, twigs, and feathers, but they did not compare to the antlers breaking from the top of the headdress.

Another accented voice spoke from this figure, hers much different than the other’s. “_You remind me much of myself, Young King, when I first sat on my own throne. You’re going to be fair and just, I like that. After the war, let’s have ourselves a pint_.”

Finally, Matthew’s eyes strayed to the figure in the center. A trail of greenery appeared in front of them, made up of- of holly… Matthew’s eyes widened. Ice, lightning, and holly. _Ice, lightning, and holly_. The accents of the two who had spoken were familiar, the man’s more so than the female’s because he had grown up in the land where people spoke in that thick, rough accent. These were not unknown figures.

“You have figured it out?” a deep voice asked from behind him. Matthew knew who it was before he even turned to look.

“They’re kings of Esmya,” he replied quietly. “The King of Glaceria, Ivan Braginsky.” The unmated, reclusive Ledyanoy-and-druid alpha who ruled the cold, mountainous land of Glaceria. “The King of Norge, Mettalise Køhler.” The lightning wielding Elf with a legendary court.

“And-” The words died on Matthew’s tongue as he stared at the final king. They were completely engulfed by the shadows, even their crown was consumed by it. Of course the shadows veiled him, because Raetia did not currently have a king. “That’s the Holly King.” The title given to Raetia’s kings, a title that has not been used in fifty-two years since the disappearance and death of the last Faerie King.

The Legatus at his back hummed. “You would be correct, dear Merlin.”

Matthew shook his head. “Why am I having this vision? What do the kings of Esmya have to with any of this?”

The Legatus gave a small chuckle, the sound unfamiliar to Matthew, but it was such an easy noise he had a feeling the Fae was used to making it. A male who loved to laugh and smile. “The best kings teach others.”

“_Fight_.” The Holly King’s voice was consumed by a snarl. It hid a possible accent, and it was such an animalistic sound Matthew could not even hear the true voice beneath it. He could only tell it was male. “_Fight, you damn Boy King. Fight so you may live_.” 

“But the wisest kings learn from others,” the Legatus murmured as King Mettalise turned around and began to walk away, heading further into the darkness.

King Ivan and the Holly King did not move. The words rolled over in Matthew’s head. The best kings teach but the wisest kings learn. The shadows beside Matthew rippled as someone else emerged from them with a face shrouded in darkness. He stopped right beside Matthew, who stifled a gasp at the weapon at the man’s back. He did not know how he knew it, but that sword was no ordinary sword. It was Excalibur. This man was King Arthur.

He walked forward right as King Ivan turned around and followed the Elven King. The Holly King was the last to leave, his moves slow and almost reluctant, but he too fell in step after his fellow kings. King Arthur kept following them, never faltering. And in his wake was a trail of blazing fire.

“I think I understand,” Matthew breathed. “The words the kings spoke were for King Arthur- they’re future words for him.” He could decipher their meanings later, if he even could. “He’s going to meet them. Somewhere, somehow, they’re going to teach him how to be a king.”

“Perhaps,” the Legatus murmured. Neither he nor Matthew moved as the trail of fire burned brighter and brighter, as if it refused to vanish even as its owner continued to march on. “Merlin. The time is drawing near.”

The darkness shifted right as the horrific pounding of bone drums started. Matthew knew what would greet him if he turned around, but he needed to see it. With a deep breath, he turned on his heel, the Legatus doing the same thing, and saw the fires and flags that began to sprout within the darkness. Daemons stood among the ranks of the army with razor sharp fangs and reptilian eyes and skin. He stiffened when the front figures appeared.

The King of Avalon stood with the mixed blood smeared across his armor, just like last time. His blue eyes were still cold and ferocious as he stared through Matthew and the Legatus. The same creatures were at his side; the ashen skinned male with burgundy hair and no eyes, the azure skinned female with an eyeball in her long nails, a beautiful young woman with iron nails, and a monstrous buck standing on hind legs. Matthew resisted the urge to shiver in front of the killers.

The same old fear was in his heart. The helpless, drowning fear he felt as a nine year-old boy, staring at the horrific scenery before him for the first time. That fear was still swirling inside his heart, perhaps it would always be there. Alexander built an army that was made to be feared. He wanted to ask the Legatus why he was having the same vision again, but he knew the Faerie would not answer.

A light broke out behind him, and he could not stop the shiver that went through him this time. He knew what stood behind him. He turned back around and looked up at the magnificent hill erected above, where a pink horizon was beginning to appear. There were ten figures on top of the hill with a screaming army behind them.

_Arthur… Guinevere… Lancelot… Elain… Galehaut… Gawain… Tristan… Kay… Bedievere… Morrigan… _

The names belonging to the rest of the ten figures. They were the same names from the _Fabula_. Is that why he was having the vision again? Was he being told he must find the rest of King Arthur’s knights? The figures atop the hill became clear as the light behind them thickened, and Matthew forgot how to breathe.

The figures standing in the spots of Lancelot, Elain, and Gawain were not… No, they _were_ Lancelot, Elain, and Gawain, because _Ludwig, Feliciano, and Gilbert_ stood in their places. Ludwig with his mighty sword, Feliciano with golden magic at his fingertips, and Gilbert with his crossbow.

Matthew nearly cried out when he saw the dark gryphon behind Gilbert. His friends were on the hill, ready to give their lives and _fight_. Even Feliciano, who seemed so gentle and peaceful, had a fire in his eyes as he beheld the man down below who took away his mate. Of course Feliciano would fight. And Gilbert... Gilbert was grinning like he wasn’t staring Hell straight in the face.

A tear fell from Matthew’s eye. He could not look away as a small smile spread across his face. Ludwig lifted his blade, Feliciano raised his hands, and Gilbert knocked an arrow into his bow. They were ready to kill. His smile vanished when a figure appeared between Ludwig and King Arthur. It was Matthew. In his old vision, it had been Merlin, but here it was him. He supposed it still was Merlin. He watched himself lift a finger in the direction of Avalon’s King, his staff gripped tightly in his hand. Matthew did not recognize the expression on his face, he did not think he was capable of making one so enraged. But that was him, he was standing there with his friends, ready to fight for and defend Esmya.

“Merlin.” Matthew tore his gaze from the assembled heroes to look at the Legatus. He smiled, and he looked so much like Feliciano when he did. “You are on your way.”

“I’m doing the right thing?” Matthew asked quietly, not daring to hope…

“Who do you see on top of that hill?” he asked, flicking his golden eyes to the rising earth beyond. His gaze darkened, sadness and grief pulsing within the light gaze. “They are doing what we should have done fifty-two years ago, before that time even. But we were too weak. This court, these future legends, they have the power to stop the army of daemons and darkness.”

Future legends. Matthew swallowed the growing lump in his throat as he turned back to the hill. His friends were going to war, they could die on this battlefield. He shuddered. They could all die. But… It was a sacrifice they had to make if they wanted to live freely. He looked back to the Legatus. “I have so many questions for you.”

The Legatus dipped his head. “I will answer them in due time, young Merlin, but you will find I am just an old Faerie, and hardly anything more.”

Matthew could not argue because King Arthur let out a bellowing war cry with his flaming sword high above him. He pounded down the hill, Guinevere hard on his heels. Matthew choked on a cry as Ludwig, Feliciano, and Gilbert, his friends, followed him. His eyes lingered on Gilbert as he gracefully ran down the hill, a shout on his lips. Wild, beautiful, and strong. There was such a heavy pressure in Matthew’s lungs, he was not sure he could breathe. This was their future.

“King Arthur is on the horizon, Merlin,” the Legatus continued, pressing a warm hand to Matthew’s shoulder. “You know what you must do.”

“Yes,” he breathed as the rest of the army pounded after the rightful king, as Ludwig and Feliciano met the ashen gray killer head on, as Gilbert fired his arrow into the azure female. “I do.”

The Legatus did not say another word, not as a warmth began to envelope Matthew, just like it did when he used the staff in order to free Ludwig of the collar. A bright light consumed his vision, wiping away the battlefield and everyone in it. But it seemed the vision was not over. Matthew was floating in this bright light, so much warmer than the cold shadows from earlier, and he was not alone.

King Arthur stood in front of him with a crown of gold on his head and sky blue eyes shining like stars. Guinevere stood at his side with locks of dark red hair cascading down her shoulders and smoldering emerald green eyes piercing through Matthew’s heart. Galehaut lifted her chin, her shade of black hair sliding over the fox’s pelt at her shoulder. And at her side was a tall man with a trident in his hand and pale green eyes gleaming in the light around them. Matthew had no way of knowing for sure, but there was a name whispered in his head: _Tristan_.

King Arthur, Guinevere, Galehaut and Tristan stared at him as he floated through the bright, warm light, unable to speak or move. Then King Arthur smiled. “We await for you in Camelot, Merlin.”

The warm light around Matthew exploded. He gasped as he opened his eyes, trying to lurch forward, to see what other vision would await him, but all he could see were tree branches, clouds, and eyes peering down at him. Were the visions over? There had been so many, one right after the other. What in the gods’ names brought that on?

“Thank the goddess,” Feliciano murmured. “Are you okay, Matthew?”

It took Matthew a moment to process what was going on. Groggily, he tried to lift his head, but his entire body was weary and exhausted. It was an effort to do that much. Once he was sitting up, he found himself pressed against Kuma’s side with Gilbert and Feliciano kneeling in front of him. Ludwig and Elias stood behind them, their eyes on him. It was still dark. He wondered how much time had passed while he had his visions. Time was practically nonexistent when he had one.

“Yeah,” he croaked, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes. “I’m fine. I was just-” He froze. The kings, his friends diving into battle, King Arthur and his court. Gods. “I had an onslaught of visions.”

Gilbert’s position relaxed just a bit. “That’s all I hoped it was. Did you see anything?”

Matthew slowly met his gaze. Yes, he saw so many things. They were on the right track, he was doing _something_ right. He opened his mouth to tell Gilbert just that when something warm and sticky gushed from his nose. Blood. There was so much of it, it even dripped into his mouth.

“Shit,” Gilbert hissed, which was not very helpful, right as Feliciano reached for Matthew.

“Here,” he said gently, threading his fingers in his hair and guided his head backwards. “Look up to the sky to keep the blood from escaping. Elias, grab my rucksack, and get my ripped tunic.”

“On it!”

Matthew had no idea what was going on. He never suffered from nosebleeds before. It didn’t hurt, but it was- it was so strange. Did it have something to do with his visions? He froze. No. That couldn’t be right. Visions didn’t have repercussions. Matthew realized he actually did not know if that were true.

Elias’s footsteps sounded over pine needles, and a moment later Feliciano pressed the sleeve of his ripped red tunic against Matthew’s nose. He wanted to tell him they could use something else, but if he opened his mouth he risked getting blood inside of it. Feliciano’s eyes were soft in the darkness, and his hand was a steady presence at the back of Matthew’s head. “We’re going to stay like this until you think the bleeding has stopped.”

Matthew made a soft noise of agreement, even as fear curled around his belly. There was a sinking feeling in his chest. He wondered if his scent was plagued by fear as Feliciano said, “It’s okay! It’s just a nosebleed. Elias used to suffer from them all the time when he was younger, like many children. It isn’t uncommon for adults, either.”

Matthew was grateful for the comforting words, and he tried to focus on them as the metallic tang filled his senses. This wasn’t uncommon. It was probably just a coincidence, or maybe it was brought on by exhaustion and stress. But some part of him knew it wasn’t. Gilbert sidled closer, his voice filled with command as he said, “I think we should just rest here for the night. It’s dangerous to leave the forest during the night anyway.”

“I agree,” Ludwig said. In a softer tone, he asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not this time,” Feliciano replied in the same gentle voice he has been using this entire time. “But thanks.” Matthew wanted to say the same words of gratitude. Ludwig knew who he was and still treated him with some form of kindness. “Here, Matthew. I’m going to ask you if you have any other symptoms; tap my leg once for no and twice for yes.”

Feliciano rattled off a couple of questions- Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy? Hot?- and Matthew answered no to every one of them. Deeming him fine, Feliciano slowly peeled the sleeve from his nose. There was just a small trickle of blood, though Matthew was still afraid to lower his head just in case it started to gush again.

“I’m fine, Feli, really,” he assured with a small smile to the sky. “But thank you.”

“I think you are too, but here. Keep using this. Don’t worry about the bloodstains, it’s basically ruined anyway.” Feliciano pressed the tunic into Matthew’s hands before patting the top of his head. “All you need is a good night’s sleep.”

Matthew couldn’t agree more. Feliciano stood up and Gilbert took his place, inching closer to his side. “You sure you’re okay? Your scent is really messed up.”

For some reason, there was a growing lump in his throat. This alpha, this wild, beautiful, and strong alpha, was not someone Matthew deserved. A Pendragon did not deserve this man. Perhaps no one on the continent of Esmya did. “I’m fine, Gil. I promise.” He could hear the sound of Feliciano guiding Ludwig and Elias away, and for some reason a knot loosened in his chest. “I just had some intense visions.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. They gave you a nosebleed!”

“We don’t know for certain,” Matthew protested weakly. He did not even want to consider the possibility of what that might mean. He shivered as a cold wind whipped through the trees. He pulled the tunic away from his nose. No more blood, not even a trickle. The tunic fell to his lap. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m sorry.”

Gilbert snorted. “Fine.” Then there was an arm around Matthew’s shoulder, and a moment later, he was dragged down to Gilbert’s shoulder, his temple slamming into the boney side. There was no apology, not that Matthew was expecting one. The man did not seem aware of his clumsiness. “You took care of me earlier when I was asleep, so now I’m gonna take care of you.”

Startled, Matthew just blinked at what was in front of him since this angle made him unable to look up. He did not know what he would find by looking anyway. Guilt unlike any other clawed at his chest, but the words snagged in the back of his throat. _I am the son of King Alexander_. He needed to say them, Gilbert deserved to know. He was fooling him by saying nothing. Ludwig’s words rang true in his mind, that they would hate him for the deception and lies. He wanted to cry.

“Birdie?” A question and concern.

Matthew stared at the scene a small distance across from him. Feliciano had his arms around himself, stiffening as another wind blew through. Then Ludwig’s body began to glow until a huge dire wolf stood in his place. Feliciano dropped his arms and wrapped them around the wolf’s neck, laughing as he did so. Ludwig lowered himself to the forest floor, gently nudging Feliciano with his nose. The Fae’s smile turned soft and loving, and he patted the top of Ludwig’s head like he really were a dog before he sat down with his back against Ludwig’s side. Elias stood there for a moment before Feliciano opened his arms and gestured for the boy to come. He did, wrapping his arms around his mother’s sides and nuzzling against his chest.

Ludwig turned his head to look at the two sitting against him before he slowly maneuvered himself so he was curled around them. His blue eyes rested on Matthew for a moment before they closed.

Matthew could not continue to deceive these people, not when he was leading them to- to war.

“Matthew, what’s wrong?”

But he couldn’t get the words out. He closed his eyes and pressed himself further into Gilbert’s side. “Nothing,” he whispered. “Nothing at all.”

Matthew was nothing more than a despicable liar.

...

Ludwig had absolutely no right speaking to Matthew as he did earlier. For one, it was impolite. They had just met but instead of asking how he met Feliciano and Gilbert, if they had been okay, he outed a secret Matthew clearly tried to keep hidden. It wasn’t right for the beta to hide the secret, but Ludwig should have kept quiet, especially considering the amount of secrets he has yet to share with Feliciano.

The night was silent, nothing but a few bugs chirping in the trees. Ludwig kept one ear focused on the valley stretching beyond the forest, just in case there was any sort of trouble lurking in the uncovered plains, but most of his attention was fixed on the two sleeping individuals curled against his side. He shifted earlier because Feliciano had been cold, and while they could have started a small fire, Ludwig wanted to feel needed. He wanted Feliciano to need him.

It was a selfish thought, one that was completely alpha in nature, but he could not help it. Now as the hours of the night ticked by, Ludwig was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. There was something in his bones begging him to get up and run because Feliciano- beautiful and sweet and wonderful Feliciano- should not be around him. He was basically deceiving him with the amount of secrets pressed to his tongue. Ever since that stupid dream of Lancelot, and Matthew’s explanation of the prophecy, the secrets and sins have been building. There were things he needed to tell Gilbert, too, all of them really, but as they ate earlier, and then as they walked through the forest, every time Ludwig opened his mouth to say something about Camelot, or the King, or the collar, the cold and dark feeling in his mind threatened to take hold of him. His face flushed, his chest tightened, and his toes curled, as if he could not speak. It wasn’t an excuse, it was a weakness. He was a pathetic alpha.

Feliciano sighed softly and pressed his cheek to Ludwig’s side, his peaceful face visible. More so, he was a pathetic mate. Maybe it would have been better for Feliciano if he found a different alpha over the years they spent apart. Someone to take care of him, feed him, love him- nurture their son, protect his family. A growl rose in his throat at the thought, and he quickly swallowed it. No, he didn’t want that. Maybe it made him even more selfish than he already was, but the thought of someone else touching Feliciano, kissing him, taking him to bed-

After a bit of maneuvering, Ludwig got to his feet. He looked down at Feliciano and Elias, sleeping in a small pile, and his heart flared with so many emotions it physically ached. He wanted to be with them, but right now he needed to be alone. He glanced across the way where Matthew and Gilbert slept, their bodies pressed impossibly close together. Kuma blinked at him, but made no move to growl or get up. Clearly Ludwig was no longer a threat in his eyes. Keeping his gaze off of Matthew’s satchel, and the dark contents within, Ludwig padded away from their little camp and out into the valley beyond.

He kept to his wolf form. Shapeshifters were hated by many- Fae, humans, Elves, goblins; hell, even shapeshifters hated fellow shapeshifters, but Ludwig never hated his animal form, even when it was used against him in Camelot. Sometimes Ludwig preferred the black fur and thick skin of his wolf over his human form. He didn’t feel as disgusting or bad while he wore this pelt. Without faltering, he walked over the cold grass, the ground hard beneath his paws. He lifted his head to sniff the air, his senses tripled with this form. He could see and hear and smell things much farther away like this, and it put him at ease.

There weren’t any alarming scents, only scattered herbs, grass, and snow. The valley was just as quiet as the forest. He tipped his head further back as he looked to the cloudy sky. A wind tore through the valley, ruffling his fur and ears, but he let it nip him. He didn’t mind it, it was quite refreshing. And it drowned out the slight roar in his mind. He let it hurt him. It was easier to drown out his thoughts when there was a bit of pain involved.

He still did not remember the events that took place with the collar on, but he remembered everything before. The nine years he wasted away inside Camelot. The fights in the pit he originally had to go through, alpha against alpha in order to see who was the strongest, who had the physical strength to be a leader in Avalon’s army; the torturous months that followed, the time spent in the dungeon with chains and whips and knives and broken bones and ripped skin and _a collar around his neck and a daemon entering his mind, destroying his memories and every single thing he held dear_-

But none of it would ever compare to the time after, when he was deemed to be “broken in”. The same dungeon, Alexander by his side, but the events that followed did not include Ludwig being ripped apart. No, there were others _he_ was tasked with ripping apart. Breaking bones, slicing off fingers, gouging pieces of skin, all of it done while keeping the victims alive. The rattling of chains as the victims tried to free themselves, the screams of agony, and the dripping of blood on the stone floor. It was on repeat in his mind. Always. _Always_. The first time Ludwig was forced enact torture on another, he could not. He physically could not. He had kneeled on the ground and vomited, and when he stood back up Alexander struck him with a dagger. It was the only scar he bore across his face, the one along his chin. It was the only scar Ludwig was proud of.

Then of course there was the most recent torture he was put under, mere months ago during the height of summer. It had been a punishment for Prince Alfred, but Ludwig stupidly entangled himself within it, and for what? To be honorable? To save an omega in distress? He could still feel the shame pouring from himself and the prince’s personal guard Arthur as others jeered and sneered and spat. He had never felt such horror and shame before in his entire life, not as he sat on that dais in the middle of a room with Arthur, just because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut, or his morals to himself. Their eyes were still in his head, Prince Alfred’s pleads were in his ears, and Arthur’s touch was still in his. A desperate, shaking touch, followed by a whisper against his ear.

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“I’m sorry too.”_

He had done the _one thing_ an alpha should _never_ do if they had a mate. He was a disgusting, horrible alpha. He had absolutely zero right telling Matthew he should be honest when he was not. Feliciano needed to know what he had done. He could smack him, take Elias, and run away, far, far, far away. He could find someone else, he could shove it in Ludwig’s face, and he would deserve it. Ludwig deserved it _all_.

A torturer, a general of Avalon’s armies, it was forced upon him. The collar may be off, but there were still shackles around his wrists and ankles. Perhaps they would always be there just like the scars on his body. He was forever bound to Avalon, to the throne, to King Alexander, whether he liked it or not. It was tempting to take Feliciano and Elias and Gilbert and just run. Take a boat to the Eastern Continent far across the Albion Sea. They could start a new life and forget about the cold, ruthless place known as Esmya. It was so tempting, but Ludwig knew he would never be able to live with himself if he turned his back on Kiku and Sakura… and his stepmother. He did not know how he would do it, but he was going to rescue all three of them. Hell, they could go with him and his family to the Eastern Continent.

Ludwig opened his mouth to take in gulps of air even as his body begged him to run, to keep going until the thoughts in his head ceased. He couldn’t bear it. There was so much in his chest and head, and he wanted to say it- gods, did he want to say everything to Feliciano, but he couldn’t. The words and thoughts still swirled in his head and tightened his heart. He closed his mouth and lowered his head as small tremors ran through his body. A monster. Disgusting, lying, bastard, horrible _monster_-

Someone was behind him.

Ludwig swung his head around, ready to leap at whatever enemy stood at his back, but it wasn’t an enemy. He relaxed as Feliciano walked closer to him, his fresh tunic completely black, allowing him to blend into the night. It covered the marks on his hip, created by his supposed protector. The fur along Ludwig’s back rose at the thought. Like this, Feliciano’s scent was easier to identify. The sweet smell of floral herbs, lavender, thyme, dandelion, and yarrow, danced over Ludwig’s senses like a dove’s wing. So comforting and soothing, so sweet and familiar. Feliciano smiled softly at him, and pressed a hand to his side as he walked closer.

Ludwig prepared himself to shift back into his human form, but Feliciano said, “No, you don’t have to. You don’t have to talk to me, it’s okay.”

The shifting paused. Feliciano stopped walking when he was directly beside Ludwig’s head. His amber eyes were as wide and light as the moon hidden beneath the layers of cloud. He lifted a hand, and Ludwig lowered his head to press it against the slightly calloused palm as an apology. His actions meant: _Sorry if I woke you_.

Feliciano ran his fingers across the expanse of his face, not an inch of fear etched in his expression. Many took one look at his dire wolf form and turned the other way, but never Feliciano. Even when they first met, he had not been scared of it. He pressed his own forehead against Ludwig’s with his hands dropping to his cheeks. Ludwig leaned into the touch.

“I missed this part of you too,” Feliciano whispered. “The part that makes you a shapeshifter.”

Some would consider it a taboo to have a Fae say that to a shifter, but Feliciano never cared about the divide between the two species, and neither did Ludwig. Ludwig saw the way Feliciano acted around other shapeshifters. He never shied away from the children who played just a bit too roughly, nor did he sneer at the traditions that may have been strange to outsiders. He accepted all of it with open arms. It was never about species and blood to Feliciano, it was only about love.

The scarf was no longer wrapped around his head either, his ears, the only sign of his heritage, were on full display. A Fae and a shapeshifter alone together in a meadow with signature qualities completely open. It never mattered to them, and it never would.

Feliciano pressed a small kiss to Ludwig’s forehead before he took a step back with a small smile on his face. “You’ve been on edge ever since you woke up from your nap.” Ludwig stiffened. “We haven’t talked about everything yet, the things that happened to us during our years apart, and I know we need to but it’s okay to wait until we’re both ready.” Feliciano’s smile grew as the sky opened up and gentle snowflakes began to drift onto the meadow. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’m there. I’ll always be there to listen to you, Ludwig, always. Forever.”

Forever could start again. It could pick up right now if Ludwig were able to say what happened. But the selfish fear of having his mate turn around and walk away flashed through him again. Forever could not start until he told the truth. Without honesty, there was no forever, there was no _love_. He lowered his gaze. Feliciano was not something he could behold.

The snow sank into his fur and chilled him to the bone, but he didn’t mind it. Let it punish him for the things he had done. For everything… Gods, there was no way Feliciano would forgive him.

“You can’t sleep. I know that’s why you’re out here, you always went on walks or runs when you couldn’t sleep.” Feliciano reached up and gently stroked one of his ears. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Ludwig, but I’m here. I’m right here.” He kissed his head again, but this time he didn’t lean away. He wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face behind his ear.

“When Matthew told me I was Elain, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to believe him. And then, well, it turns out I’m supposed to find the Faerie Queen, which is another reason why I’m here right now, but I’m mainly here to make sure you’re okay.” Ludwig closed his eyes and dipped his head in order to press his chin to Feliciano’s back, keeping him close as the snow fell. “I would let Raetia burn if it meant I had to prioritize it over you. That’s selfish of me, but I don’t care.”

So Feliciano truly was part of some great prophecy. He was following Matthew in order to find a lost Faerie Queen. Ludwig didn’t know what to think of that, so he just pressed himself closer. It didn’t last for long because Feliciano stepped back again. “Let’s run.”

Ludwig blinked. Feliciano was never one to volunteer a physical activity. Sensing his confusion, Feliciano chuckled softly and stroked his ear again. “Running helps you relax, so let’s do it. I can keep up with you too, because I’m Fae, and we pride ourselves with our speed.”

If Ludwig could raise an eyebrow right now, he would. He has seen Feliciano run occasionally, and he was quite fast, but to run beside a shapeshifter? He leant forward and carefully nosed Feliciano’s hip to remind him he was injured, but Feliciano only laughed. “Oh, please! I’m the healer of my village, I know what I can take.”

Ludwig snorted. The idea- to run, to keep going, and to never look back- was appealing. And while his thoughts were kept at bay with Feliciano beside him, they were still there. Waiting. He stepped back and gently pawed at the ground, the movement meaning: _Then let’s run_.

Feliciano raised his arms over his head in a stretch, but then he was off. Something in Ludwig’s heart sped up at the sight of his mate racing further into the valley. He should call him back, tell him it was dangerous to just run off without checking for signs of danger, but he didn’t. He wanted to enjoy himself, if only for a moment. And he wanted the same thing for Feliciano. He took a deep breath, and leapt forward, charging after his Fae mate with little abandon.

The ground was hard beneath his paws, and the long grass tickled his legs, but he didn’t slow down. Feliciano was still in front of him, running with all the grace Fae were described as having in old books of poetry. They were fast, beautiful creatures, an extension of the forest itself. There used to be a time when humans would fall to their feet from the sheer mystique and elegance Fae exuded, but that was in the past, at least it was for humans. Ludwig would happily fall to his feet for his mate.

The wind and snow tore around him, cutting through his fur and singing in his ears, only this time it was not considered a punishment. He relished in the feeling of freedom. He nearly faltered. It was shocking, but that’s what this was- freedom. Free, he was _free_. Running through the meadow with no one but Feliciano around him, Ludwig realized he was free. There were no invisible chains or collar shackling him to a palace or master, there was just an open, cloudy sky and sloping hills for as far as the eye could see. Freedom. Ludwig forgot such a word existed. But it was real, this was real. He allowed himself to run faster.

Soon enough, he was beside Feliciano, who tossed his head to the side and gasped, “No fair!”

If he pushed himself just a bit harder, he would overtake him, and would easily leave him in the dust, but Feliciano didn’t let him. Narrow arms wrapped themselves around his neck, and a body pressed against his back, and soon enough Feliciano was on top of him as if he were a horse. “Ha, there! My plan worked!”

Ludwig would have laughed if he could, something he had not done in years. He didn’t mind this, not at all. Feliciano used to do it all the time as if he were a child. This was exhilarating, it was true freedom. It was more than he had ever dreamed of. So he kept running, across the hard meadow and over one of the sloping hills as the snow continued to whip around them. He thought his heart would burst as he felt Feliciano’s hands remove themselves from his back, followed by his mate howling as if he were the wolf.

_“Woooo!”_

Ludwig turned his head to the side as he ran in order to look at Feliciano, and the sight was beautiful. His arms were spread, his head tilted back, and his eyes closed. Mab herself could not be as beautiful as the Fae on his back. It was a picture Ludwig would forever keep engrained in his mind. In this moment, they were both free. Fae and shapeshifters were hated and hunted, but here, in this meadow in Avalon, they were free from it all.

Without giving his mate any sort of warning, Ludwig shifted back into his human form. Feliciano let out a delighted scream as they descended onto the hard ground. Ludwig twisted his body in order to hold onto Feliciano so he wouldn’t get hurt as they rolled on the ground, but he didn’t mind the slight pain. It didn’t process as they slid to a stop with him on his back and Feliciano stilled cradled in his arms, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Feliciano gasped as he picked his head up, tears rolling down his face. “You _dog_.”

Ludwig smiled, but it was not enough to stop the laughter bubbling inside his chest. He tilted his head back so it was resting against the grass and laughed. He and Feliciano laughed as if they had just witnessed the funniest thing in the world, and maybe if someone were watching they would be confused by what was going on, but it was simple to them. Everything was simple when they were together. There was nothing to worry about now, nothing but each other.

Their laugher slowly died, but they made no move to get up. A final giggle passed through Feliciano’s lips as he looked down at Ludwig. There were glittering snowflakes in his auburn hair. Ludwig reached up to lift one from the stray curl of his that never laid flat. “I do believe this counts as a win for me.”

“I’m okay with that,” Feliciano said, lowering himself. “Because you got us in this position.”

Ludwig paused, his hands pressed against Feliciano’s boney hips. The position they were in… The air was knocked from his lungs as he realized how they lay. Slowly, he ran a hand up Feliciano’s spine, his eyes never leaving the pools of amber above him. Feliciano smiled softly before he lowered himself further and pressed his lips to Ludwig’s. The kiss tasted like freedom.

Feliciano’s lips were cold and just a bit dry, and he knew his were the exact same, but that didn’t take away from the feelings within them. Ludwig pulled his Fae closer as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss with a different angle. Long, cold fingers pressed against his cheeks before Feliciano’s lips parted. Ludwig was more than happy to accommodate by parting his own, allowing their tongues to gently press against one another’s and dance in a slow, loving waltz. There were so many feelings welling inside of Ludwig’s chest, he could not keep track of them all. He loved this man. His gentle, brilliant, beautiful Feliciano.

“_Ich liebe dich_, Feliciano,” he whispered against his lips. “_Für immer_.”

Feliciano’s breath stuttered against his lips as he drew away. “_Ich liebe dich auch_, Ludwig. _Bis ans Ende der Zeit_.”

“You remembered the language,” Ludwig murmured as Feliciano pressed another kiss to his lips, and then another to his jawline.

He could feel Feliciano’s smile against his cheek, and it warmed his heart. “I had a good teacher.”

Ludwig closed his eyes with a smile still gracing his own lips. It was cold, and the ground was quite uncomfortable beneath him, but he was content to just lay here for the rest of the night. He wanted to, it was tempting, especially as Feliciano gently kissed his cheek again, but then he remembered everything his hands had done in the past nine years. They did not deserve to touch Feliciano’s waist.

“Are you okay?” Feliciano asked, sitting up so he was straddling his hips.

The words were on the tip of his tongue. His sins could be exposed right now, where there was no one else around to hear them. He opened his mouth. Feliciano’s eyes were round, and his scent was heavy with concern. There was such an innocence to him, perhaps one that would always be there no matter how many trials he faced throughout his long life. And there was deep love shining in his eyes. It was that love that made the words on Ludwig’s tongue evaporate.

“I’m fine,” he said softly. He pushed himself up in a sitting position and dragged his feet across the ground as he bent his knees. Seeing what was about to happen, Feliciano wrapped his own legs around Ludwig’s waist and his arms around his neck. Ludwig rolled his eyes before he stood up, gripping the backs of Feliciano’s thighs to keep him steady. Gods, Feliciano was so _light_.

“Thank you for tonight,” he murmured as he kissed Feliciano’s cheek.

“Does it have to be over?” Feliciano asked with a tiny pout. Ludwig almost laughed again.

“You need to get some more sleep. I know you’re exhausted.”

Feliciano unhooked an arm and pressed his thumb beneath Ludwig’s right eye. He dragged it against the soft skin, prompting a small shiver. “You’re one to talk. I’ve never seen anyone with such bruises. When was the last time you had a good night’s rest?”

Ludwig almost looked away. He didn’t know. This was what he looked like every time the collar came off because his body was always put under such stress. Then again, the past nine years were filled with nightmares and insomnia. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” Gently, he set Feliciano on his feet, earning a small whine, but it faltered when Ludwig hesitantly took his pinkie finger. “Sleep for me.”

“Only if you sleep for me.”

Ludwig did chuckle this time. “I will try.”

Slowly, they turned away from each other in order to walk back to the forest, but Ludwig froze in his tracks when he saw who was creeping closer to them, his body faintly glowing from the aftereffects of shapeshifting. Feliciano let go of his pinkie as the sharp scent of his surprise filled the air. “Elias? What are you doing? Did you follow us all the way out here?”

His tone was not accusatory, Ludwig noted, just concerned. Elias stopped, crossed his arms, and hunched his shoulders. His long golden hair was speckled with snowflakes. “Yes.” He peered up at Ludwig, his blue eyes bright with curiosity. Once again, Ludwig could not say one single word. He didn’t know what he could possibly say to his _son_. An apology for the years spent apart would be a good place to start, or maybe even a simple hello, but his tongue wasn’t working, nor was his brain. He probably looked like an idiot. Elias tilted his head to the side. “I was cold.”

“Oh, is that it?” Feliciano asked softly. He knelt in front of the boy, and pressed his hands to his red cheeks. “Will this warm you up?”

“_No_! Your hands are freezing!” Elias exclaimed, knocking them away. He went back to crossing his arms, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly despite the curious glint in his gaze. “But I was also, I don’t know.” He looked down. “Curious to see what you guys were doing. I thought… maybe…” He met Ludwig’s gaze again, and Ludwig tried hard not to squirm. “I thought he was taking you away.”

For a moment, Ludwig wondered if Elias read his mind earlier. Guilt swelled inside of him because, yes, he had thought of how nice it would be to take Feliciano and run. He would never do that, not if he couldn’t take Elias with them. Feliciano sighed softly, a misty exhalation. “Ludwig wouldn’t do something like that, not unless I asked him to.”

Elias turned to his mother in horror, and Feliciano laughed quietly. “Oh, sweet boy, I would never ask him to do that. I’d make sure you were with us first.” It seemed they shared a similar idea. Feliciano tucked a stray piece of hair behind Elias’s rounded ear, a smile still on his face. “Would you like to properly meet your father?”

Ludwig’s stomach dropped. He quickly pushed his fear down before the two could sense it, but his mind still spun with anxiety. Elias stayed by Gilbert’s side for the majority of the day, not that Ludwig really blamed him. Why should Elias be obligated to speak to him, the alpha who hadn’t been in his life? This was really their first sort-of meeting. It was at least their first proper one.

“I guess,” Elias, surprisingly, said. He looked past Feliciano and back up at Ludwig. He stepped around his mother, and Ludwig forced himself to stay where he was. He had taken down armies of huge alphas before without batting an eye, but this small boy terrified him. Gods, he looked like a perfect mixture of his father and Gilbert. “I vowed to myself that if you were cruel to my mom I would never give you a chance.” They were bold words for one so young, and from Feliciano’s sharp inhale he thought so too.

Ludwig braced himself for something harsh and bitter, for accusations of abandonment and professing hatred, but it didn’t come. Instead, Elias quietly said, “He hasn’t looked this happy in a long time.” His little shoulders slumped slightly. “He really loves you.”

A knot untied itself from Ludwig’s chest. That hadn’t been the reaction he expected. Tentatively, he raised a fist to his heart and inclined his head. “And I really love him.” He did not think Elias would appreciate something like, “but I really love you too,” so he kept it to himself.

Elias regarded him silently for a moment longer, and with every second that passed beneath his sharp gaze, Ludwig found it just a little easier to breathe. Slowly, Elias looked away. “I guess you’re okay if you really love Mom.”

Feliciano closed his eyes. “Elias, please.”

But Ludwig didn’t find any offense to the words. “I’m thankful.” Elias and Feliciano looked equally surprised as they turned their gazes to him. He smiled faintly. Here, Elias looked a lot like Feliciano. “The reason doesn’t matter, I was absent for your entire life, Elias. I’m not expecting you to jump for joy as soon as you meet me, but I would be grateful for a chance.”

It was the absolute truth. Ludwig would not play the hurt victim, because he knew exactly what it was like. He knelt on the ground beside Feliciano, giving Elias plenty of berth. “My father died when I was five years-old,” he explained softly, the snow twinkling around them like falling stars. “It was hard to grow up without him in my life; others in my village constantly told Gilbert and I it would be hard for us because we were alphas growing up without a father.” He shrugged. “And it was. I know it must have been hard for you, too, and the pain won’t go away just because I’m here now.” He bowed his head, his heart thumping wildly with shame. “I promise you, Elias. I will never let you down again, or your mother.”

_Say that again after you’ve told them the truth, coward._

“Ludwig…” Feliciano murmured.

Elias didn’t immediately speak. Ludwig would have been content if he turned around and walked back to the forest, but he didn’t. Once again, the boy surprised him. He lifted a pinkie finger. “Mom and I always make pinkie promises,” he mumbled. “So we can make one too, I guess.”

Did… Feliciano carry out their silly little tradition? Though it was unlike him, the notion made tears burn his eyes. He slowly wrapped his large, calloused pinkie around Elias’s smaller one. “I promise you, Elias. It will never happen again.”

Their blue eyes met, father regarding son in the snowy valley as the mother watched on with bated breath. “Okay,” Elias murmured quietly. His voice faltered, and he took a deep, determined breath. “Okay, Dad.”

Something dark curled against Ludwig, or perhaps it was more like something slammed into him. He stiffened. He dropped Elias’s hand and stood up, his instincts waking from their quiet slumber. Feliciano and Elias either sensed it too or were following his lead. Feliciano sniffed the air, then covered his mouth. “What is that?”

The air filled with a putrid smell. Ludwig took a tentative sniff and almost recoiled- sulfur and brimstone. Only one creature smelled like that. “A daemon.” He sniffed again. The smell wasn’t strong enough to be more than just one, but one daemon could be nasty. And from the bland scent surrounding it… “Humans are with it. Alphas by their scent.”

If there were humans with a daemon, the humans were most likely Avalonian soldiers since most every human, or species for that matter, knew to keep well away from the creatures of Hell. But something didn’t add up. Lupine shapeshifters and Fae would be more than capable of smelling daemons from miles away, yet this one was able to sneak up on them? That couldn’t be possible.

Ludwig shot Feliciano and Elias a hard look. “Stay there.” Feliciano wrapped his arms around Elias, and nodded in confirmation.

Moving as quietly as he could, Ludwig crept up the closest sloping hill, keeping as low to the ground as possible. The ground pressed against the leather chest piece as he slid atop the hill, digging his blunt nails into the dirt once he made it up the mound of earth. His eyes widened at what he saw below. People in silver armor with red and yellow marking painted across the chest pieces, eight horses in total with two attached to a wooden wagon with the top completely sealed. Attached to the wagon’s top was a flag. Ludwig narrowed his eyes, trying to make it out. It was red with a yellow line cut diagonally through it, and across the yellow line was a red lion standing on its two back legs. It was the same symbol that was stitched across Ludwig’s leather chest piece. He was right, these were Avalonian soldiers, eight in total.

The horse’s bodies weren’t glistening with sweat from long runs, and the soldiers did not seem to be weary at all. That couldn’t be possible. The horses should at least look like they’ve been ridden. Wait. He counted again. Eight soldiers. Then he sniffed the air- no, the scent of daemon was still around them, but there were no daemons standing amongst the soldiers. Unless the daemon could either disguise itself to look like a horse or human- two very unlikely possibilities- it wasn’t around.

“Ludwig, _look up_!” Feliciano screamed, shattering the silent night.

Ludwig did as he was told right as a winged humanoid creature swooped down to attack him. It screeched like a banshee with talons protruding from its gray feet, and Ludwig barely ducked in time before it was swiping for his head. With a snarl, he slid down the hill and raced for Feliciano and Elias, his hand reaching for his back to grab the hilt of his sword.

His hand met air. The sword was back in the forest; he had forgone it because he had been in his wolf form when he left. Shit. He slid to a halt in front of them, his eyes on the sky with the daemon circling around above them. He could hear the soldiers shouting to one another. Soon they would be climbing the hill.

“Run back to the forest as fast as you can!” Ludwig ordered, ushering Feliciano and Elias backwards. “Wake Gilbert and Matthew, and keep running. Don’t go out of the forest!”

“What is that thing?” Elias asked shakily, wide eyes on the humanoid creature still in the sky.

“A daemon,” Ludwig growled as he continued pushing the two away. “They’re creatures from Hell used by Alexander to do his bidding. Now, go! Hurry before it strikes again!”

Feliciano grabbed Elias’s hand, and started running on his own. Elias’s eyes were still on the flying daemon, but Feliciano didn’t falter. “Shift, Elias! Run as fast as you can, come on!” Feliciano shouted. It seemed to knock Elias out of his daze, for a moment later his body began to glow and he, thankfully, shifted into his wolf form. Feliciano ran beside him, but began to slow down as soon as Elias started overtaking him. “Don’t look back! Keep running until you make it to Gilbert and Matthew!”

Ludwig dashed forward and grabbed Feliciano’s arm in an attempt to push him toward their fleeing son. “What the hell are you doing? Go with him, I can take care of things here!”

Feliciano frowned as he yanked his arm away. “I’m not having a repeat of nine years ago, Ludwig, not when I just got you back! Elias doesn’t need me to run with him, he can make it to the others on his own!”

Ludwig snarled in frustration. Of all the times Feliciano’s wicked stubbornness was going to rear its head, it had to be now? “Feliciano, I’m not _suggesting_ you go with him, I’m telling you to. Go-” He choked on his words as the soldiers shouted from the top of the hill. Gods, they were so damn close, and that daemon was still circling overhead. He turned back to Feliciano and gritted his teeth. “You don’t even have a weapon!”

Still frowning, Feliciano leant down, untucked his right pants leg from his boot, and hiked it all the way up to his upper thigh where a black fucking garter belt curled around his milky thigh with a sheathed dagger between the fabric and leg. He unsheathed it, tossed the sheath away, and met Ludwig’s heated stare. If doom wasn’t surrounding them on all sides, Ludwig would have kissed him for the ridiculous show.

“I’m not letting you do this alone again,” Feliciano said with just the slightest tremor in his voice. “Whether you like it or not.”

Gods damnit. He growled once more, but stepped back. “At least listen to me when I tell you to tire the soldiers out before attacking them.”

Feliciano’s eyes sparked. “Yes, sir.” And then he was gone, running past Ludwig. He never thought he would see the day that gentle, timid Feliciano said he was going to stay and fight. Apparently, that’s what motherhood does to someone. Ludwig was impressed and quite proud, even if his heart was in his throat at the idea of his mate fighting Avalonian soldiers. He would just have to finish the daemon off quickly so he could aid him.

The daemon screeched again and started its descendant, only it wasn’t aiming for Ludwig this time. It was heading south for Elias. Was it intelligent? Some daemons were, others weren’t. Ludwig would know, he had to live with them for nine years. With a snarl, he shifted into his wolf form, took a running start, and leapt into the air. His fangs dug into the daemon’s leg. The thing screeched. He closed his eyes as its talons swiped at his nose, but it wasn’t bad enough that he let go of it. He and the daemon crashed to the ground. There was no time to pause, Ludwig needed to destroy its wings or it would take off again. He kept digging his fangs into its leg as it screeched bloody murder.

Black blood gushed into Ludwig’s mouth, and it was the most disgusting thing he ever tasted. It was like rotting flesh. But he held on as he looked for an opening. The daemon fluttered its wings as it once again swiped at his nose- there. Ludwig let go of its leg as soon as it stopped fluttering its wings. There was just enough time between the movement; Ludwig leapt for it and dug his teeth into the bat like wing on its back, pulling until he heard a tear. The daemon screamed. Ludwig was so focused on its wing he did not notice what its hands were doing until he felt a clawed hand grab his leg.

It tossed him over its body and slammed him to the ground. Ludwig tore out of its grasp, blood spilling from his nose. The daemon was now on its feet, and by the gods was it hideous. It was huge, at least the size of a large man, and it must be strong if it could stay airborne for a moment while Ludwig had its leg in his mouth. It was hunched over, standing on legs with inverted knees. Its entire body was dark gray. Its face was perhaps the most horrific thing about it- it had no eyes, just two slits for a nose and a too large mouth with a tongue that looked like an inflated earth worm and clear fangs. The place where its eyes should be was covered by an extra layer of skin stretched across its bald head. A true creature of Hell.

It swiped a clawed hand toward Ludwig, but he easily rolled out of the way. It swiped again, and again, and again, but each time Ludwig evaded it. It was not until the fifth swipe he realized what it was doing- the exact same thing he told Feliciano to do. It was trying to tire him out. This time when it swiped for him, he snapped his jaws around the creature’s wrist. It snarled, and tried to slash at him, but he let go just in time. The daemon turned around, spread its uninjured wing, and lowered its body.

The damn thing was still prepared to fly. Ludwig picked himself up from the ground and jumped, landing right on the daemon’s back. It cried out as it faltered, but Ludwig dug his teeth into the side of its neck. The scent was almost too much to bear. He tried to ignore it as he dug his teeth in further and further, black blood exploding over his tongue. He snapped his head back, taking a chunk of skin with him. He spat it out as the daemon shrieked again, this time in pain.

Ludwig was not expecting to be batted with one of its wings. It was heavier than he imagined it to be for something that was so easily breakable. It smashed into his side once, but he held fast, trying to sink his teeth into the back of the daemon’s head this time. It didn’t work. The daemon batted him once more with much more force than the first time, and Ludwig was knocked from its back. He snarled, blood still dripping from his muzzle. He shook his head, then looked up. His eyes glowed in the darkness as he showed his fangs. Sometimes the only way for a shifter to win a fight was to abandon their humanity, so he did. He would gladly do it to protect his family.

The fur along his body rose, his ears pricked upward, and his tail curved behind him as a threatening growl sounded deep in his throat. The daemon spread its uninjured wing behind him and roared. Ludwig paid it no mind. He charged for the creature, and slammed his body into it. Claws dragged along his shoulders, but he ignored that too all in order to dig his fangs into the daemon’s neck. The daemon tried to wrench itself away by clawing his shoulders again, but the blood was flooding Ludwig’s mouth and its jugular was right beneath his fangs. He tossed his head back and ripped the creature’s throat apart. The daemon went limp.

It wasn’t enough. Daemons only stayed dead through a beheading or by stabbing it in its seven hearts. Clearly the easier method was a beheading. Ludwig pressed his paws against the daemon’s chest, dug his fangs into the thing’s neck, and used all of his strength to rip its head off. He tossed the head away from the body, where it rolled ominously for a moment before stopping.

There was no time to gloat. With black gore dripping from his mouth, Ludwig tore back down the valley in order to get to Feliciano. He saw his mate darting around, moving so fast Ludwig could barely see him, but it wasn’t fast enough. He was clearly tiring. Ludwig snarled as one of the soldiers grabbed Feliciano’s arm and pulled him back, almost yanking him off his feet. There would be none of that. Ludwig leapt over two of the soldiers who attempted to block his path, and crashed into the soldier and Feliciano.

Feliciano jumped back up, the dagger still in his grip. Other than the ragged pants being pulled from him, he seemed relatively fine. Regardless, their odds were slim. They were getting tired, Ludwig was slightly injured, and there were eight soldiers in front of them. Ludwig silently hoped Kumajirou or Gilbert sensed the daemons and were on their way.

“General Beilschmidt,” one of the soldiers shouted. Ludwig did not know his name, he was unfamiliar with most of the human soldiers under Alexander’s command. “You and Feliciano Beilschmidt are under arrest, wanted alive under Field Marshal Sallow’s command!”

Ludwig only snarled in response even as his gut twisted. Feliciano gasped. “How does he know my name?”

The soldier’s grin was sickening. “A little bird told us. We won’t hurt you if you tell us where Elias Beilschmidt and Matthew Williams are.”

Shit, shit, _shit_. They knew Ludwig had a son, they knew his mate’s name- how did they learn this information? How the _hell_ did they know about Elias when Ludwig didn’t even know about him? And then Feliciano whispered, “Did someone betray us?”

They could talk about it later. Ludwig growled, and sprung back into battle. Fighting a group of alphas was much easier in his human form but he would have to make due for now. He snapped his jaws in the direction of one soldier and kicked his back legs at another. They landed on something. He was able to jump away before they could strike him. He thought he had gotten out of their range of attack, but Feliciano shouted, “Left!” right before some sliced his already wounded shoulder. He hadn’t sensed their attack… because his damn nose was clogged by the blood the daemon drew.

He sprang back, and dug his teeth into the arm of the man who struck him and tossed him to the side just as another soldier unstrapped a spear from one of their backs, aiming the tip right for Ludwig’s face. They didn’t get a chance to prod, because Feliciano was there, slamming his willowy body right into the man’s back with enough immortal strength, he stumbled forward. It was enough of a distraction for Ludwig to sink his teeth into the man’s armor and toss him into another soldier.

Then two soldiers sprang at Ludwig from behind, barely giving him any time to whirl around. He lowered himself when one swung a sword, and then scrambled to the left when the other swung his hunting dagger. He collided into the one with the sword first, right when Feliciano shouted. Too late, Ludwig realized the attack from behind had been a distraction. He chanced a look at Feliciano, and his blood turned to ice.

The soldier who announced their arrest had one arm around Feliciano’s waist. He held a bejeweled dagger in his hand, the blade pressed right against Feliciano’s neck. His amber eyes were wide with alarm as the soldier pressed the blade into the skin. “I will slit his throat if you continue fighting. Surrender, mutt. Or it’s your mate’s head.”

Ludwig’s heart was in his throat. Feliciano’s eyes widened as he clutched the man’s arm. There was unfiltered terror in his tear filled eyes, no more determined and fearless Fae warrior. His mate mouthed his name right before the alpha thrust forward, dark eyes swimming with sadistic delight. Feliciano squeezed his own shut. “Actually, it won’t be his head, cause we were told to keep him alive. But we can hurt omegas in another way, ain’t that right?”

Ludwig was out of his wolf form in a flash. He gnashed his teeth together as he put his hands up, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on Feliciano. Slowly, Feliciano opened his eyes. _Look at me, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not going to let them hurt you_. The soldier holding Feliciano grinned. “Arrest the General.”

There was a collection of ‘yes, sir’s’ before two soldiers were behind him, dragging him to his knees. He kept his eyes on Feliciano and the soldier the entire time. If that bastard so much as touched Feliciano inappropriately… He gritted his teeth as a rope was knotted around his wrists. The wounds on his shoulders from the daemon barked in protest as blood leaked from the cuts, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did except for that fucking bastard still holding his mate.

“Come get this one, too,” he said with a grin Ludwig’s way. The dagger was still pressed to Feliciano’s throat. Two more soldiers, the ones Ludwig had bitten and tossed away, slunk over and did the same thing to Feliciano. They tied his wrists at his back and stepped away. The soldier holding him smirked wickedly, and Ludwig lurched forward. His movement made one of the soldiers at his back fist their hand in his hair and tug his head back.

_Try it, try it, try it- try touching him, try hurting him. See what fucking happens if you try and hurt my mate._

But the soldier did nothing. He dropped the dagger, and shoved Feliciano forward, right to the ground in front of Ludwig. His mate gasped as he pressed himself to Ludwig’s chest. He quickly took to covering him as best as he could with his hands behind his back. Feliciano’s ragged breath cooled his neck, and his tremors broke his heart. His herbal scent was clouded by fear. The soldier snorted. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I wanna sleep with a fucking Faerie.”

“Shifters and Fae,” one of the others spat a wad of spit right in front of them. “Fucking disgusting pigs. You think you’re so high and mighty just cause you’ve got some magical powers?”

“Ain’t so high and mighty now, are ya?” the one holding Ludwig’s hair sneered. He let him go after a forceful tug backward. “Weak bastard. Your bitch is in trouble so you just give up? Gods, your kind is fucking pathetic.”

Feliciano flinched against him, and Ludwig turned his head to the side to shield his face from the verbal attacks. He would kill these alphas. When he had the chance, he would slaughter them for the fear they were instilling in his mate. How dare they. The soldier who threatened Feliciano originally grinned again.

“Ludwig and Feliciano Beilschmidt, you two are under arrest. And thanks to you, General, for killing that Shadow Walker, we’ve got a long ride back to Camelot.” He grinned. “Hope you find the wagon to your liking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edit 5/13/20- In case anyone comes back to reread this and notices I changed the word _berserkir_ to _berserkr_. Both are Old Norse, but apparently the "i" makes it plural and Ludwig is, obviously, one man. Now it's correct! Apologies, ancient languages are quite difficult to find on the Internet, haha.
> 
> Goodness, another chapter that was a pain in my ass to write. Onto the brief notes!
> 
> -Lancelot and Guinevere: I'm sure everyone knows, but just in case you don't! In the Arthurian mythos, Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere were in love. Ludwig is right when he said most people only know Lancelot for his love for Guinevere. I'll explain this further later in the story.
> 
> -Shadow Walker: I checked to see if this was a real demon and it's not, so don't worry about the explanation! That's coming next chapter
> 
> Here's something totally random! I was talking to my friend about the story a few days ago and she asked if I had to choose a knight for Feliciano to be, who would it be? My answer was Sir Dinadan, cause the guy is a total hilarious fun dude. He's funny, and not much of a fighter. Plus, there's a funny story that goes like this: Dinadan fights a woman, who is actually Lancelot in disguise, and upon beating Dinadan, Lancelot dresses _him_ up in a dress and parades him around the street where everyone starts laughing, and no one finds it funnier than Dinadan. AND Dinadan dies in Lancelot's arms. So, like. You know, it's romantic. Anyway, if anyone were curious, in an alternate universe, Feli would have been a beta in this story, and he would have been Sir Dinadan, Lancelot's insufferable cowardly companion.


	15. Elain and Lancelot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hana H drew more fabulous fanart [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/218086333-my-fanart-for-the-witch-and-the-prophecy-by) so please check it out! Their style is so adorable ^^
> 
> This chapter gets dark. There are threats of sexual assault and mentions of torture, so proceed with caution. I think the rating of this story is fine at "T" but if anyone thinks I should change it to "M", let me know!

__

_Infertile omegas, infatuated alphas, insatiable betas._

_Human beggars. Yearning for a child, wanting a mate, needing more in life. The desires of greedy mortals down on their luck who have nowhere else to turn but the folk of the forest, the beings foolish humans paint and sculpt and sing as beautiful wish makers, and nothing more._

_They tell their beggars to find the ones with skin kissed by the sun and ears narrowed by stone. Eyes that shine like jewels, flora and greenery draped across their bodice, and an operatic accent dripping from their lips. Go into the forest, and you will hear them sing. Follow their voices. They will grant you your greatest wish._

_Fool._

_Mischievous, wicked, ancient Fae. Those who claim the folk of the forest to be benevolent have never met one before. They will trick you with their hypnotic voices, play their vicious instruments, and dance through the moonlight with you in their arms. They will ask to sing for you, or to play for you, or to dance with you, and you best run before they do._

_Their songs and dances spark madness within us, or mortal minds cannot handle the poisonous tunes and corrupted footwork. May Kameloth have mercy on those who dare attempt to lay with the Fae. Madness will consume you, for a human can never pleasure a Fae._

_Heed the forest, never step foot in it! Be wary and cautious, young travelers! The Fae are devils; the alphas are legions of the dark gods and the omegas are the succubus! Mischievous and malicious devils who are waiting to trick and trap humans. Be wise, young ones._

_Be wise and stay out of the forest._

Old Avalonian warning regarding the Fae Folk.

.

.

.

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“I don’t know, but it- it looks like something that came straight out of Hell.”

Gilbert did not allow himself to panic as he regarded the freakish winged creature standing on one of the branches of a tree across from them. Matthew was right, the thing looked like it flew right out of the chasm. The slits of its nose flared, and then it opened its huge mouth, exposing _clear_ fangs, and screamed. It was a symphony of destruction.

Behind them, Kuma growled. Matthew stuck out his arm to either prevent the dire bear from attacking, or to tell the winged beast to back off. Shit. Where the hell were Ludwig, Feliciano, and Elias? When Gilbert woke from the smell of sulfur and brimstone, his family was gone. There had been no time to look for them, not when he needed to wake Matthew and figure out what was going on. There hadn’t been any time for that either, for this thing showed up not a moment later.

“I think,” Matthew breathed, “This is a daemon.”

It would make sense. Gilbert bared his teeth and gripped the crossbow in his hand. Instinct made him grab it the moment he woke from the wrong scent in the air. He raised it, an arrow already knocked inside. He narrowed his eyes, but he was hesitant to shoot. If it were anything like an animal, it would attack after feeling threatened, and he was not confident in his ability to fight off such a strange looking creature, especially with Matthew at his side.

But he couldn’t tell Matthew to run; what if there were others plaguing the forest? Matthew would be alone with Kuma, and while a dire bear could very well fight, his friend couldn’t. Not against something like this. Gilbert’s hand graced the trigger, but before he could do anything, the daemon screeched again, and sprang directly for them.

Time froze. Gilbert had to make a split second decision; he could take a chance shooting the bastard, or he could push Matthew to the ground. The answer was simple. He lowered the crossbow, pressed his hand against Matthew’s shoulder, and shoved him with all his might. “Get down!”

Before he could see if he had succeeded, the daemon crashed into him. Matthew may have screamed, but the blood roaring in his ears drowned out the noise. The daemon gripped his shoulders with a surprising amount of strength, and fluttered its wings to keep hovering in the air as it pushed him across the ground until his back collided with a tree. The air was knocked from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He opened his mouth to gasp in attempt to get one drop of precious air, but the daemon didn’t allow him any before it raised a hand and slashed him across the chest, shredding his shirt and ripping his skin.

White hot pain consumed him. He gagged, trying his best to summon some kind of strength, but all he could do was shakily raise his arm and press his fist to the daemon’s chest. Gods, he needed to fucking fight or the thing would turn on Matthew, and he could not have that-

“_Get away from him_!” Matthew’s scream tore through the haze in Gilbert’s mind. The daemon did not pay him any attention, not until a magnificent bright light exploded from behind it. Gilbert could see the light perfectly as it lit up the runes along Matthew’s staff.

Immediately, the daemon let go of Gilbert and spun around, hissing and spitting at the light. Gilbert’s back slid down the tree as his knees completely gave in. He hacked and gasped as he tried to breathe through the burning pain searing his chest, and slowly, he regained his breath enough to groan, “Birdie, stop. Run.”

It didn’t cross his mind how Matthew was even standing properly with his exceedingly swollen knee, but there he was with a light shimmering around him like last time. It burned his eyes. Gilbert would have been mesmerized if he weren’t so damn terrified.

The daemon let out a horrific screech and lashed its hand out, but Matthew was too far and the claws sliced nothing but the air between them. It fluttered its wings and lowered its head, a submissive gesture in animals. Did it have to do with what Matthew and Ludwig hypothesized earlier, about Faerie magic being the weakness for daemons? The daemon snarled again and swung its head from side to side, hissing and spitting and making every grotesque noise under the sun. Gilbert pressed his palms against the dirt and tried to pick himself up. Matthew needed help. There was no telling if he could create a Fae like last time in order to destroy the daemon!

A furry body pressed against his side. Kuma grunted softly and pressed further against him, maneuvering his huge body so he was slightly in front of him. Gilbert’s eyes widened. Kuma was making sure he didn’t get up. He trusted Matthew that much?

Matthew raised the staff, still glowing with the golden light of Faerie magic, and the daemon cried again. “You are scared of Faerie magic, aren’t you? Is this your weakness?” The daemon hissed. Matthew slid his foot forward, and almost flinched. Gilbert squirmed, and pushed his hands against Kuma’s shoulder to get him _off_-

The daemon leapt into the air, screaming still. Gilbert shouted, “Birdie!” but it didn’t matter. The daemon didn’t attack him, it literally vanished mid-air, consumed by the shadows of the forest. It was like the shadows ate the damn thing. No one moved, maybe no one even breathed. Gilbert certainly didn’t. Would it come back? Where would it come back _from_? Kuma left his side and sniffed the air. Gilbert waited for him to growl in warning or to spot the creature hiding somewhere in the trees, but he just lumbered to Matthew’s side.

The daemon was gone. Gilbert gasped in small relief. He didn’t understand what happened- how it appeared and disappeared so quickly, but it was gone. That’s what mattered right now. The light from Matthew’s staff vanished as soon as he dropped it to the floor, and limped heavily to where their bags were discarded. He grabbed Feliciano’s rucksack and hurried back over, his entire body dipping with every step he took.

“By the gods, Gilbert,” Matthew groaned as he slid to the ground, extending his left leg like he always did. “Are you alright?”

The scent of blood assaulted Gilbert, and it wasn’t his own. It dripped from Matthew’s palm as he grabbed the ripped ends of his shirt and tore it open further to expose the wound along his chest. Three long, skinny lashes with blood oozing from them. It didn’t look too deep. Matthew’s own blood splashed against his chest, and neither one tried brushing it away. That’s why the staff glowed, he activated it with his blood again.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.” He pressed a hand to Matthew’s chest in an attempt to push him away. “There’s no time to worry about me anyway. We need to figure out-” The words died as a small spasm of pain flooded his chest. Ah, damnit. This was nothing, he’d handled worse. He dropped his hand back to the ground in an attempt to stand up. “-what the hell happened to the others.”

Matthew stayed on the ground, but that didn’t make his sharp gaze any less intimidating. “You were just attacked by some creature! It may still be at large, so sit down before you hurt yourself even more!”

“We took care of it, right?” he snapped once he was standing. “All you need to do is wave your staff around to scare it off, and boom. But I need to find my family before something else does.”

Kuma abruptly turned his head to the exit of the forest, Gilbert and Matthew quickly following suit. Gilbert pivoted on his heel so he was directly in front of Matthew. His crossbow was still on the ground, but if he dove for it, he could grab it before the daemon emerged, and maybe he would be able to shoot it- no, not maybe. He would shoot it. Self-doubt could kill a person in these types of situations. But before he could grab the bow, a black animal shot from the darkness and nearly collided into them. Gilbert almost sank to the ground in relief.

“Elias!” He hurried to his nephew. His tail was tucked between his legs, and his blue eyes were stretched wide, wild like a cornered animal’s. Gilbert dropped to his knees and held up his hands. “Breathe, kid, it’s okay. Concentrate on your human form, remember every detail you can. Your hair, your eyes, your skin, remember it all.”

Gilbert spoke gently and slowly, ignoring the flaming sting in his chest and the possible danger still around them. Right now he needed to focus on Elias. It was easy to talk like this when a child was around; after their father died, he used to same tone to talk to Ludwig when he was upset. Slowly, Elias’s breathing calmed down, and his dire pup body began glowing. The light disappeared, and revealed a nine year-old boy with still too- wild eyes and flushed cheeks. Gilbert smiled anyway, because he was the adult, and children looked to adults to make sure their worlds weren’t falling apart. He just hoped Elias didn’t mind the blood.

“Tell me what happened, kid.”

Elias gasped. “There was- this thing! A daemon, or something like that, and it nearly- Mom and I ran, but I’m not…” He trailed off of his broken, panicking gasps, and turned his head around to stare at the place he just came from. Gilbert followed his gaze. Nothing but a quiet, black beckoning. Aside from the wind, there weren’t any other sounds. “I thought my mom was following me.”

But he wasn’t. Gilbert’s lips were numb as he murmured, “Where is your father?”

“He- he told us to run. He said he was going to take care of the daemon and the soldiers.”

Daemons and soldiers. It must have been a different daemon, but with soldiers? Why hadn’t Ludwig woken them? Unless he didn’t know they were out there until he ventured beyond the forest, but even then he should have sensed them coming from miles away. Gilbert, Feliciano, and Elias should have too! Then he recalled the way the daemon just disappeared into the shadows, leaving nothing behind, not even a scent. Something cold sank into the pit of his stomach.

“Gilbert, wait!” Matthew called, but he ignored him and burst through the exit of the forest. Snow kissed his skin, made colder by the wind, as he pelted across the valley. There was a thin layer of snow across the grass with small paw-prints pressed against it created by Elias. He followed them as the icy wind flooded his nose and mouth, choking him off his supply of air. He didn’t care. He couldn’t, not as his mind began spinning.

Ludwig may have said he would take care of everything, but Feliciano wouldn’t allow him to do it alone, not after they were just reunited. Gilbert pushed himself harder across the valley, unable to hear the feet and paws behind him. His breath misted in front of him as a symphony played in his mind: _Not again, not again, not again_.

His family would not be taken from him a third time.

The smell of rot hit him first. On the ground, with black blood oozing from its neck, was a daemon. Dead, with a thin layer of snow covering its body. If he stopped to analyze it, he would have seen animal bite marks on its neck and leg, but he didn’t have the time for that. His boots slipped against the frost covering the rolling hill, and his chest barked in protest of having such exertion placed on it after just being sliced, but he pushed through it and dug his blunt nails into the cold ground in order to heave himself further up the hill. He made it to the top and looked down.

Nothing.

Nothing but marks in the snow quickly being covered by the flakes still falling from the sky. He sniffed the air, trying to make out Ludwig’s and Feliciano’s scents through the wind, but his lupine instincts weren’t as sharp as his brother’s. It was hard to detect anything. He would have to rely on sight instead. There were boot marks, hoof prints, and two long lines in the snow- wheels. A horse-drawn wagon, no doubt. The lines continued… He narrowed his eyes as the wind bit into his wound. There, in the distance, over a few more rising hills, was a large dark shape. It was headed for the Wye Forest, the huge expanse of wilderness named after the river within it. If they were going north, and if they were soldiers, they were going to Camelot. And he had a very bad feeling his family was with them.

Gilbert growled, and made to climb down the hill to follow them, to rip them to shreds for taking his pack away from him _again_, when Matthew’s voice sounded from behind, “Gilbert! Wait!”

The ancient alpha instincts in him said, _No, we do not take orders from betas_. But the rational part of him said, _Listen to your damn friend_. Gilbert wanted to listen to his alpha instincts, because they never wronged him, but he didn’t. He turned around to look at the bottom of the hill. Matthew was there on top of Kuma with Elias pressed against his chest.

The boy scrambled down and charged up the hill, nearly slipping just as Gilbert had. His breath was visible in front of him as he took in the emptiness before him. His hands curled into fists, the tips of his fingers purple from the cold and his lack of warmth. A distressed scent assaulted Gilbert, but his instincts were too riled up to be gentle, to give any form of comfort.

“No,” Elias whispered. Tiny snowflakes flew from his hair as he slowly shook his head. “Where is my mom?” He looked up at Gilbert, ice blue eyes rounded with the silver glow of tears. “Where is my mom, Gilbert? Did they- did they hurt him?”

Ludwig’s voice whispered in his head, from a time long ago. “Why did they burn him, Gilbert? What did Dad ever do to them?”

Gilbert didn’t know what to say then, and he didn’t know what to say now. His mind was spinning too quickly. There had been soldiers with at least two daemons that he and Kuma, at least, did not notice until it was right on top of them, meaning it was safe to assume Ludwig and Feliciano did not notice them either. Besides, if Ludwig knew there was danger in the valley, Feliciano and Elias never would have been there in the first place. He recalled the way the daemon just vanished… That must have been how they and the soldiers caught them so quickly. Anger burned inside Gilbert’s heart.

“Don’t worry,” he growled with his eyes on the disappearing lump in the distance. “I’m getting your mother back. Just you wait.”

“Both of you, come here!” Matthew called, authority in his voice. Gilbert whirled his head back around to face him and snarled. Matthew didn’t flinch, though Kuma growled softly. Matthew’s face was hard, and his shoulders did not quake despite the precipitation and temperature. In a softer voice, he said, “We’re going to find Feliciano and Ludwig, but I refuse to have you, Gil, run around while you’re bleeding. Let me take care of your wound, and then we’ll go after them.”

“The tracks will be covered by the time you’re done!” Gilbert argued.

Matthew took a deep breath, and looked to Elias. His gaze softened completely. Without needing to say anything, Kuma lowered himself to the ground and Matthew awkwardly scrambled to his feet. Slowly, with his staff back in his grip, he limped closer to the hill and gestured for Elias. The boy did not move. His eyes were still darting back to the black spot in the distance, but eventually he looked away and slid down the hill. Gilbert slowly followed him, not at all pleased that he was listening to this ridiculous beta.

“I know you’re worried about your mother, Elias,” Matthew murmured as Elias stopped in front of him. “I am too, he’s my very good friend. So if we’re going to save him, we need to be smart, but it is very hard to be when we’re scared. It’s time to be brave.”

Slowly, Elias nodded, and Matthew smiled. “Now take a deep breath for me, and tell me what you smell.”

Gilbert blinked. Elias closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and took a big sniff. “I… I smell snow, and grass, and the forest.” His eyebrows knitted together. “I smell something bad, really gross like- like what the collar smelled like… and I smell my parents.” His eyes opened. “Their scents go up the hill.”

“Perfect.” Matthew patted the top of his head with a soft smile on his face. Gilbert blinked again as the ancient alpha instincts imbedded inside of him began to flee. “You’re a dire wolf shapeshifter, Elias. You’ll be able to follow their scents in order to find them, I know you can. But right now, I need to take care of your uncle, and we need to get all of the items we left behind. Then we’re going to go after your parents, I promise.”

Elias’s face fell. He looked to the ground, and Gilbert realized this was probably the first time he had no idea where his mother was. For his entire life, it had only been the two of them. Sure, there were a few others, but until adolescence, an alpha’s entire world was their mother. His fist unfurled, and sharp blue eyes took in his pinkie finger. Gilbert had no idea what the boy was thinking about, but he lowered it and nodded. “Okay.”

Matthew smiled, then looked up at Gilbert. His gaze hardened. He limped closer, his walk worse than ever before, but he was able to balance himself perfectly as he thrusted a finger into Gilbert’s chest. He hissed in slight pain. “Don’t you ever do something that stupid again. Running around after getting attacked by a daemon, then trying to dart off to the gods know where without any weapons. It’s like you’re trying to die.”

Matthew’s sweet scent was littered with concern- concern for _him_\- and that hurt Gilbert. Even so, he narrowed his eyes and met Matthew’s fiery gaze with one of his own. “I need to find them.”

“And we will, but what good can you do with an open wound on your chest?” Matthew lifted his chin. “Our army is composed of a nine year-old, a limp witch, and a reckless, now wounded, idiot. We can’t afford injuries right now. Get on Kuma’s back and keep your mouth shut. Come on, Elias.”

Elias walked over to Kuma without a word, but Gilbert didn’t move. He stared at Matthew, the “limp witch” for just a moment longer as the remainder of his alpha instincts settled down. Matthew played the role of omega with Elias as he calmed him down, but took the role of alpha as he spoke with him just now. If the situation were different, Gilbert may have laughed. But for now he only shook his head. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but he knew Matthew was right. His shoulders fell, the only sign of his defeat, but it was good enough for Matthew. He turned around and climbed on top of Kuma with Elias curled by his chest. All Gilbert could do was roll his eyes and get on behind the infuriating man.

Kuma leapt forward, and Gilbert had no choice but to place his hands on Matthew’s sides as they bounded back the way they came to obtain their forgotten items. His slight exasperation and steadily growing infatuation with the beta needed to be put on pause.

He swallowed a growing growl as the wind and snow whipped around them. ‘_I’m getting them back, even if I have to cut down the gods themselves_.’ The next growl that clawed its way up his throat was not so easily silence. ‘_Those bastards will pay for laying their hands on my brothers_.’

.

There was no telling when Feliciano fell asleep. After being shoved inside the back of the prison wagon- a blade to his back so Ludwig wouldn’t “try anything funny”- the panic set in. His brave face completely crumbled as the food he consumed earlier tried to escape via his oral orifice, though he had thankfully swallowed it before making a mess. Scenting the frenzy his mate was in, Ludwig nudged his body against his chest, and whispered,

“Put your head to my heart; listen to it, and breathe.”

Feliciano obeyed. He listened to the powerful, steady thumping, wondering how it could be so calm. He must have fallen asleep sometime afterward, his body too exhausted to do anything else.

It was not a pleasant sleep, nor was it a long one. Feliciano was no stranger to nightmares. This one was filled of strange alphas grabbing him, and stopping him going wherever it was he needed to go. Muffled by the sounds of their sneers was a far off wailing cry, one Feliciano had not heard for some time, but he recognized it as Elias. His son was saying one word over and over again, but it was so hard to make it out… Then it grew louder until Elias materialized right in front of him with guards holding him back. Tears dirtied his cheeks, and his blue eyes were wide with anguish as he tried to rid the alphas holding him. His cry became loud and clear. “_Mamma! Mamma! Mamma_!”

Feliciano could do nothing but make an attempt to push against the ones holding him, but it was no use. Even as he screamed and cried for Elias, nothing happened. All he could do was struggle, and listen to his son’s frantic cries. It was pure agony.

There was a bang, and Feliciano’s eyes flew open. His face was still pressed to Ludwig’s hard chest. For a moment, he thought the loud noise had been a part of his dream, but then it sounded again from the outside of their still moving wagon. Ludwig tensed beneath him, his scent spiking with anger.

“You two are so quiet in there,” one of the soldiers, presumably the one making the noise, jeered. “Don’t even think about getting all intimate just because there are walls separating us, got it?”

Another soldier laughed, the nasally noise grating Feliciano’s ears. “They wouldn’t be able to keep it down. Don’t ya know? Shifters fuck in their animal forms.”

“Even when they aren’t with another shifter?”

“_Especially_ when they aren’t with a fellow beast!”

Laughter erupted from outside. Feliciano picked himself up as best he could without using his hands, and exchanged a glance with Ludwig. Neither one bothered to tell the soldiers they were wrong. The alphas outside reminded Feliciano of some of the Fae in the Orlon Forest, like Enzo. He hadn’t always been cruel to Feliciano, it only started after he said he mated with a shapeshifter, and gave birth to his son, a fellow shapeshifter without any sort of visible Fae heritage. The soldiers outside were just as stupid as some of the Fae Feliciano dealt with before. He offered his mate a gentle smile before looking at the angry red marks across his shoulder, cloth and skin shredded by daemon claws. Keeping himself steady, Feliciano pressed a small kiss to the wound.

He picked himself back up with a faint smile still on his lips. Slurs like that didn’t matter, not in the long run, because they were silly, false stereotypes.

Ludwig leant forward, lowering his upper body slightly. The angle was rather awkward since his arms were still tied back, but he was able to press his upper chest to Feliciano’s shoulder without any problems. Cold lips touched his pointed ear, but they were welcoming nonetheless. “Something’s wrong. Did you have a nightmare?”

His scent was muddled then. Feliciano decided not to tell Ludwig about his dream, there were more important things to worry about right now. He moved his head to the side so his own lips touched Ludwig’s ear. “How long was I asleep?”

“For the rest of the night. Dawn ended an hour ago.”

That explained the slight light creeping in from the singular barred window atop the door of the wagon. The walls and floor were still consumed by shadows, and if it weren’t for the faint glow of Ludwig’s eyes, he would be completely hidden in darkness. An icy wind drifted through the opening, carrying in little flurries. Feliciano shivered. The little nap had turned his head and body to mush. They needed to get out of here, but how much planning could they do with the soldiers right outside? He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were caught scheming. His stomach tied itself in knots, and he pressed closer to his mate. He should be thankful they were even able to sit beside one another, even if their hands were still bound.

Feliciano lowered his head as another shiver went through him, caused by the biting cold and the direction his thoughts were heading in. His hazy dream echoed in his ears, as did the soldiers’ words from earlier. The cold festering within him melted from the fiery rage quickly consuming him. “They said they were after Elias and Matthew. Why would they want my son? How do they even _know_ about him?”

Ludwig’s upper body moved with his deep breath, and Feliciano wasn’t entirely sure if he should be relieved or worried by the sigh. “I have no clue how they know him. I told- I told the King my mate died in childbirth, and the babe had been a stillborn. You and Elias were never named.” He shrugged as his expression hardened. “The soldier said a ‘little bird’ told them. Is there anyone who knew you, Elias, and Matthew?”

Outside, the horses in front of the carriage whinnied. Feliciano closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Just about every Fae in the Orlon Forest. That’s the place Elias and I lived, and naturally everyone knew us, and then Gilbert and Matthew arrived.” For the past nine years, he had not considered the Orlon Forest to be home, but now he missed it. His heart ached for that little cottage the previous healer built, and Lovino’s sarcastic comments and harsh laughter as he played with Elias, and Antonio, Govert, Manon, all of it. He blinked his eyes open as hot tears burned them. “No one would ever sell us out.”

When Ludwig didn’t immediately reply, Feliciano realized what he said. _Then Gilbert and Matthew arrived_. There hadn’t been any time to tell Ludwig Gilbert hadn’t been with him during the nine long years apart, that Feliciano raised Elias relatively alone. He didn’t want to have that conversation here. “A-and it couldn’t be anyone from the Orlon Forest, because that’s in the south of Avalon, and the soldiers came from the north.”

“The soldier called the daemon I killed a Shadow Walker.” Ludwig stared at him with glowing blue eyes. “I could be wrong, but the ability of a daemon with a name such as that is probably one that allows it to walk between shadows. Perhaps teleportation. This way it wouldn’t have been impossible.”

A chill traveled down Feliciano’s spine. “So some _daemon_ could have been in my village?” The back of his neck burned as he thought of what state the forest was in if that were the case. No, it couldn’t be. He was overreacting. But, but what if he wasn’t? What if Lovino and Antonio were hurt? What if Govert and Manon were? There were children and expecting omegas in the village! They had weapons, but nothing to stop a creature from Hell. Goddess…

Ludwig pressed his forehead to the top of Feliciano’s head and tucked him close. “Feliciano, stop it. Look at the situation we’re in; you can’t afford to panic. Concentrate on my heartbeat and breathe.”

Feliciano hadn’t even noticed the black spots dancing in his vision, or the ragged breaths he was taking. He really was beginning to panic. He lowered his body, an ache crawling its way up his spine from the position, and pressed his ear to Ludwig’s hard chest. A steady, strong heartbeat. Calm. Collected. Alive. Alive, and here, and home. He forced himself to breathe as the beat lulled him. He would not think of his family right now, he couldn’t afford to. They were in the back of a prison wagon with soldiers surrounding them; they needed to do something about that first.

“Good.” Ludwig’s chest shivered as he spoke softly. “Very good, Feliciano.”

The panic was gone, but Feliciano didn’t immediately move away from the warmth his mate gave him. But he needed to, they needed to keep talking. His eyes found Ludwig’s as he finally moved back. In a voice only beings with superior hearing could detect, Feliciano murmured, “Why are they after Elias and Matthew?”

Ludwig paused, his eyes drifting to the wall. Feliciano followed his gaze. Beyond, the soldiers were talking and laughing, completely oblivious to the conversation taking place in the center of their formation. No one was listening.

“Matthew is a witch in Avalon,” he whispered. “If a town’s garrison grew even slightly suspicious, they would send a message to King Alexander, and he would send out his warriors to find the…” He faltered and Feliciano knew why.

Amber and blue found each other in the darkness. “That must be why you’re here,” Feliciano whispered, his lips numbing. “When you were fighting Matthew you kept calling him a witch.”

“I… I guess that explains how I found you.” Ludwig slowly shook his head, and Feliciano was shocked by the pain forming in his eyes. But he blinked, and it was gone. “Well, my point stands. Somehow King Alexander heard of Matthew and sent… me out to bring him to Camelot. As to why he wants Elias…” Once again he trailed off. Feliciano’s stomach twisted.

“Why does he want my son?” he whispered.

Ludwig took a deep breath. A light scent was coming from him. It squeezed Feliciano’s stomach even more, and constricted his lungs. Fear. Ludwig was scared of something. “A prison wagon is not the best place to explain everything.” He took another deep breath before continuing.

“There are things about my ancestors my father never told me, or Gilbert.” Ice pierced into gold. “Do you remember what I said about them? They used to defend kings of old?” Feliciano nodded. “My father used to say it was because our ancestors were mercenaries, but that was a lie. He knew the real reason.” Feliciano held his breath. Ludwig’s voice was slow and rough, and his eyes grew distant. “There is a specific ability passed through the alphas of the Beilschmidt family. It’s not just our family, others have it too, but it is extremely rare and because of that, it is desired by kings and queens. Apparently my ancestors weren’t mercenaries, they were _berserkirs_.” 

“_Berserkirs_?” The name itself made him shiver. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a word from Norge,” Ludwig replied before frowning. “Actually, it’s more like a title from Norge. _Berserkirs_ are warriors who fight with a fury that is almost trance-like, and they can destroy everything in their path without even breaking a sweat. They are skilled and legendary whose stories are mostly kept inside Norge, but there are a few shapeshifter clans with the trait, and the Beilschmidt clan just happens to be one of them.”

A warrior who could fight in a trance-like fury. “You didn’t fight like that. If you did you probably would have-” _Killed_. “-done a lot more damage.”

“I didn’t,” Ludwig murmured. His eyes were wide as he stared at the floor of the wagon, and his body was so still, it looked like he stopped breathing. “For the first two years of my time in Camelot, I was forced to fight other captured shapeshifters in an underground pit. Alexander was not interested in all of us, only the ones who were constantly victorious. I was one of them. He figured out my last name, and apparently knew what the Beilschmidt line was capable of even though I didn’t.” He blinked. “Like I said, there’s too much to talk about here, but he knew alpha Beilschmidt’s were _berserkirs_ and when he figured out who I was, he took me in."

Ludwig did not continue. Feliciano could hear his own heart beating in his ears. Took him in. What did that entail? He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he leant forward and kissed the shredded skin across Ludwig’s shoulder. That seemed to propel his mate to keep speaking. “A _berserkr_ is so rare, a king could never create an entire army out of them; however most are tied to one specific person. So if there were five _berserkirs_, they could be tied to one king and would have no choice but to listen to that king’s orders.”

“Tied to?” Feliciano was having a hard time keeping up.

“There are two ways to tie a _berserkr_ to you,” Ludwig whispered slowly, his widened eyes on the floor once again, his body stiff and immovable. “The first is a natural method through a strong bond of friendship or companionship. The second is a forced method known as a blood oath in which a _berserkr_ drinks your blood. A _berserkr_ must listen to the one they bonded with; history shows most orders given are ones for battles, as they were warriors.” His next words were spoken on a long sigh. “The only way a _berserkr_ bond can be broken is through death.”

Somewhere in the wilderness around them, an owl hooted an ominous note. Feliciano could only stare as horror filled every crevice of his body. The only way such a bond could be broken is through death. “So- so you were forced to be… be bounded to the King of Avalon?”

Very slowly, Ludwig tilted his head to the side to meet his gaze, the movement almost haunting. “No.” Feliciano blinked. “Alexander tried. I drank his blood, but it didn’t work. It never did.”

Feliciano could barely breathe. “Why didn’t it work? Are you not a _berserkr_?”

“A _berserkr_ can only have one bond. Even if the one they originally bonded to dies, another cannot be made. Ever.”

The wind whistled through the opening of the door, scattering a few more flurries into the wagon. Feliciano paid it no mind. He tilted his head to the side as he regarded Ludwig. His shoulders were relaxing, and his eyes weren’t as wide as before. The fear surrounding him was gone, replaced by something steadier. Feliciano did not want to wonder why his own heartbeat was beating so wildly again, or why he was dreading the next words his mate was going to say.

“You already bonded with someone.”

“Unintentionally, yes.”

“Who- who is it?” Feliciano tried to think of everyone Ludwig was close to. The list wasn’t long, even in Versteckt he kept to himself. It could be Gilbert, or maybe it was somehow Elias. When Elias ran in front of him, he was able to stop swinging his sword. Or perhaps it was even someone from Camelot he had become close to during those nine years, like Kiku or Sakura.

Ludwig’s brow furrowed. “Do you want me to be honest?” He could only give the slightest tilt of his head. “It’s probably you.”

He gasped without meaning to. Slowly, he pulled his gaze away and stared at the snowflakes slipping through the boards of wood that made up the floor of the wagon. There was so much information given in such a short amount of time, and in his whirling mind, words were being whispered: _Berserkr_, bonded, fighting, warrior.

“I… I don’t know how I should react,” he mumbled. It was a stupid thing to say, but it was an honest statement. He turned wide, blinking eyes to Ludwig. “Should I be, I don’t know, happy?”

Ludwig looked away, and Feliciano knew the answer to his own question. “I’m glad it’s you and not some king. In many legends, _berserkirs_ are used as raw strength. They’re slaves to war. That’s what I would be if the blood oath with Alexander had been successful.”

It looked like that’s what Ludwig became even without a bond to Avalon’s King. The black uniform he wore, the way he fought during their reunion, and the calculation in every one of his movements, they were all signs of an alpha bred for King Alexander’s ruthless war, and it was clear to Feliciano it was not something Ludwig appreciated. He drew in a deep breath. This _berserkr_ thing startled him, but he was not the one who needed to be comforted.

He pushed his knee against Ludwig’s, and leant his upper body forward to meet hidden blue eyes still so bright in the shadows. “And you know I would never, not in a million years, force you to be a- a slave, right? You’re my mate, Ludwig, not my personal warrior. Fight for me if you think you have to, but I’m going to fight for you too because that’s how it should be.” Ludwig’s eyes widened, but Feliciano didn’t allow him to say anything yet. “I can be _your berserkr_.”

Ludwig slowly shook his head, his voice hardly more than a breath as he said, “You don’t understand, Feliciano. I have to be strong for you.”

The conversation was no longer about _berserkirs_ and bonds, it was something far more. Feliciano recalled the almost manic look in Ludwig’s eyes as he asked if anyone had hurt him during their time apart. His tone held a desperate wail to it as if he expected Feliciano to say yes, someone had hurt him, but he said no because no one had, and then Ludwig cried and held him in relief. Not long after there was another incident where Ludwig had practically frozen after they kissed, but he shrugged it off as if it were nothing. He did the same thing when Elias and Gilbert found them, too. Then there was the obvious nightmare he had when Feliciano had been asleep in his arms. They had only been together for two days, and in that short amount of time, the number of times Ludwig forced himself to act strong for Feliciano was ridiculous, only because he was _forcing_ himself to be.

Feliciano shook his head. Softly, he whispered, “That’s not what love is, Ludwig. If you continue to tell yourself to be strong for me, you’re going to crumble and I’m not going to know what’s wrong. I love you, all of you. Your imperfections and flaws, and your quirks and awkwardness. All of it. You asking for help, or telling me you’re not fine does not make me love you any less, and it certainly doesn’t make me think I can’t ever rely on you again. So please, Ludwig. Rely on your mate, and stop forcing yourself to believe you _must_ be strong for my sake.” He smiled as the inevitable tears filled his eyes.

“This- this _berserkr_ thing changes nothing; you’re still my Ludwig, and I’m still your Feliciano. So please, let me take care of you once in a while. Tell me you’re hurt, or afraid, or not okay, and I will do everything in my power to help you, because that’s what love is.”

Ludwig’s own eyes were filled with tears, but not a single one fell. Feliciano could feel the shiver that traveled through him, and it prompted him to kiss his cheek. Ludwig pressed his face into Feliciano’s hair. He did not speak, he barely made a sound, but Feliciano didn’t mind. He would comfort his mate silently, too.

“I’m sorry,” Ludwig finally whispered. “I suppose I haven’t been very fair.”

Feliciano almost giggled as another tear fell. “That’s okay, I forgive you.”

“But I’m an alpha, Feliciano. It’s my job to protect you and Elias.”

A knot twisted itself inside his throat at the noble words. Always so honorable and good, Feliciano wondered if the King of Avalon ever used those qualities against him. He leaned back in order to look into Ludwig’s red rimmed eyes. “It’s an omega’s job too.” He smiled. “We can do it together.”

Ludwig looked like he wanted to argue, but then he shook his head and smiled softly as if to say ‘what am I going to do with you?’ “You’ve grown to be incredibly stubborn.”

“A side effect of having a stubborn child. And maybe I’ve been around my brother for too long.”

The breathless chuckle that came from Ludwig was sweeter than music. Feliciano leant his head forward and pressed his ear back against the powerful heartbeat that told him his mate was alive, they were together again, and even if they were in the back of a prison wagon, things would be okay. Ludwig’s cold lips touched the top of his head, and he smiled until he remembered his previous question. He closed his eyes as familiar maternal rage smoldered within his core.

“They’re after Elias because they know he’s an alpha,” he murmured. “And because he’s your son, they believe he’s a _berserkr_.”

Ludwig’s silence spoke louder than words, but he still said, “That’s the only theory I have.”

“He’s only nine.”

“They will train him until he’s of age, and then Alexander will give him the blood oath.”

Feliciano scowled without meaning to, but he couldn’t help it. Lovino said once before he was overprotective- which was rich coming from him- and maybe he was, but Elias was his only son. He was a shapeshifter born into a world that did not want him. What mother wouldn’t be overprotective? “I heard the King is on his way to Norge. Did he give this order?”

If Ludwig was surprised that he knew such information, he didn’t say. “No, when we were arrested the soldiers said this was an order given by Field Marshal Sallow.” He growled softly. “The bastard is in charge of all military proceedings when King Alexander is absent. He knows of my heritage. Whoever the ‘little bird’ told would have immediately told him.”

Feliciano felt restless. “We need to get out of here.” He needed to get to his son before someone else did.

“We do.” Feeling Ludwig move, Feliciano leaned away. His mate was looking around with narrowed eyes and a creased brow. He made that expression numerous times as he worked on a particular difficult weapon in Versteckt. “Whatever we come up with needs to wait until nightfall. Our eyesight is ten times better in the dark than a human’s… Maybe if I were to use the _berserkr_ abilities…”

Feliciano wasn’t listening, he was coming up with his own plan. His mind was moving a mile a minute. They were surrounded by human alphas… Lovino once told him unmated alphas are driven by one thing, the desire to take any omega they wished; Antonio once told him humans are driven by two things, curiosity and fear. His eyes widened.

“I have an idea.” Ludwig stopped talking and waited. It was difficult to move as the carriage moved, but with some effort, Feliciano climbed to his knees and turned his body to Ludwig’s. He pressed his lips to his mate’s ear and whispered the plan to him in a rushed, unintelligent mess. He was never very good at articulating things verbally. When he was finished, he leant away and waited for a response.

Ludwig’s face was as hard as stone. “No.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Even in the darkness, Feliciano could make out the red color splashed against Ludwig’s pale face. His scent was becoming acrid too, a telltale sign his temper was flaring. It was pure instinct that told Feliciano to lower his head, back off, this is an alpha telling you no, but he would not listen to his ancient omega blood because he was a mother who needed to get back to his son, and this was the quickest way to do it without killing the soldiers, Feliciano really didn’t want to kill anyone.

With the steadiest voice he could muster at the moment, Feliciano said, “I’m not going to be killed, because you’re going to be there. I’m merely a distraction.”

Ludwig gritted his teeth. “Avalonian soldiers can be _ruthless_, Feliciano, do you understand? They will not hesitate-”

“Yes they will, because I’m a Faerie.” Feliciano smiled. “They’re going to have questions before they do anything.”

“_This is ridiculous-_”

“Hey!” one of the soldiers shouted, rapping on the side of the wagon they were leaning against. “You two are making quite a lot of noise. Quiet down!”

Feliciano met Ludwig’s heated stare. Softly, he whispered, “We need a distraction, and that’s what I can be. Without one, we’ll never be able to get out of here. You’re injured and we’re both running on hardly any sleep or food. We need all the help we can get, you know I’m right.”

Ludwig frowned, but Feliciano saw the way his eyes darted around in thought. He was contemplating. Feliciano knew he would crack. “I’m going to be fine, Ludwig. Trust me. I’m stronger than I look!”

It was the last crack needed to shatter the glass, for Ludwig growled out, “Fine. But if one of those bastards does anything to you, he’s dead.” Feliciano mentally leapt in celebration. The fiery anger in Ludwig’s eyes didn’t dissipate, but the growl in his voice did. He dipped his head to whisper against Feliciano’s ear, “For now we need to flush this plan out until we have it memorized step-by-step. First, we need to assume the soldiers will stop during the night to give the horses a rest…”

...

Naturally, Ludwig’s prediction was correct. The light had only just vanished from the small window above the door when the horses halted. They stopped a few hours earlier for the soldiers to check on their prisoners, and to toss them two, tasteless crackers that did nothing but make Feliciano thirsty.

“This’ll be a fine place to stop for the night,” one of the soldiers was saying. “We’ll meet up with the two other patrols at the Wye River tomorrow afternoon.”

Feliciano and Ludwig exchanged an alarmed look. There were other patrols? Oh, he hoped Elias, Gilbert, and Matthew were okay. He took a deep breath. There was no point in worrying right now, they couldn’t afford their thoughts straying too far from the mission at hand. He shifted, allowing his legs to spread.

Beside him, he heard the gentle tear of rope as Ludwig extended his shapeshifter claws and carefully got to work shredding his restraints. It was by pure luck they were rope and not iron chains. He flexed his free wrists for a moment before he reached for Feliciano and took his arm. His eyes were dark. Feliciano offered him a small smile. Gently, Ludwig pushed his sleeve up and ran a finger down his forearm before sinking a claw into the flesh. Even though it hurt, he forced himself not to flinch to keep Ludwig from worrying. Immediately, the sweet smell of nectar permeated the wagon.

Ludwig pushed the sleeve back down to cover the wound, but he didn’t move back against the wall. Instead, he placed a hand against Feliciano’s cheek and regarded him silently as the soldiers continued to situate themselves outside. Ludwig’s eyes said it all, he was worried. Feliciano leant forward and pressed his lips to his mate’s, his mouth already parted and inviting. He sighed softly as Ludwig’s freed arms wrapped themselves around his body and pulled him close.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in reassurance. “I’m not afraid.” That wasn’t entirely true, but he felt brave right now.

The kiss slowly ended. Ludwig pressed his forehead to Feliciano’s, and brought his hand back up to cup his cheek. The rough callouses were so comforting, he almost cried out from the feeling. “Remember, if you scream, I’ll be there.”

“I know.” He smiled softly. “But you need to concentrate on your own job.” A breathless chuckle escaped him. “Look at me, it’s like I’m giving _you_ orders.”

Ludwig didn’t reply, but his eyes brightened. He kissed the top of his head then settled back against the wall with his hands behind his back to replicate the previous position he had been in. Feliciano flexed his fingers, testing his own restraints. Hopefully, the soldiers would undo his on their own. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he tried to get his breathing under control, and as he tried to remember the rest of the plan.

The soldiers were still rummaging around outside, talking amongst themselves. There was no telling how much time passed, but Feliciano could smell smoke and hear a crackling fire. He drew in another deep breath, counted to ten, and released it. This was mostly his idea, but now that it was getting closer to the moment they would execute it, he beginning to doubt it. He put too much faith in himself, and in the curiosity the soldiers may not have. He or Ludwig could get hurt. And what it was he was going to do… He had never done it before.

It was an ability every single Fae were born with, a natural gift. He shivered. He hoped Mab and Oberon were visible in the sky tonight. A sharp knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts, and he blinked in its direction. It was still closed.

“D-don’t be getting any funny ideas right now,” a soldier shouted. “I’m keeping first watch!”

The soldier sounded young, and there was slight tremor to his voice. Of course, he was guarding a shapeshifter and Fae during the night. Who knew what sort of horror stories he heard from fellow humans regarding the two species?

Feliciano and Ludwig stayed quiet for fifteen minutes. They looked at each other and exchanged a small nod, and then they began.

“Um, Mr. Guard?” Feliciano called in a small voice. The shakiness in it wasn’t intentional. “I need to tell you something.”

Nothing, and then, “Wh-what is it, Faerie?”

“I need to relieve myself?” Feliciano wanted to groan since his words sounded more like a question than a statement. Ludwig nudged him in encouragement. Feliciano just hoped this guard didn’t know bodily functions were different for immortals, and they could go a day or two without needing to actually relieve themselves.

It was why he almost sighed in relief when the guard mumbled, “F-fine.”

Keys rattled, a lock clicked, and the door opened. The guard really was a young man, perhaps just on the cusp of eighteen with close cut black hair and dark skin. His nose twitched and his dark eyes widened. “Wh-what’s that smell?”

Feliciano’s heart hammered against his chest, because maybe this guard knew what the smell actually was and he would figure out they were lying and trying to fool him- _No_. He could do this. He tilted his head to the side, smiling shyly. “The sweet smell? Sorry, it’s what the Fae smell like when they go into preheat.”

The guard’s eyes grew in size. “Ah.” He cleared his throat and gestured with his right hand. In a deeper voice than before, he said, “Come along.”

Feliciano could not believe this was working. He stood on shaky legs and slipped out of the wagon without a backwards glance. It would be too suspicious. The guard helped him down before closing the door. Right as he slipped the key into the lock, Feliciano gasped and stumbled into the guard’s armor. The young man froze without turning the lock.

“I-I’m sorry,” Feliciano said, ducking his head like a good, shy little omega. “I haven’t used my legs in an entire day, and preheat makes me so weak. I’m so sorry.”

“N-no,” the guard said slowly, placing hesitant hands against Feliciano’s shoulders and prying him off. He didn’t touch his waist or hips, Feliciano kept note of that. “It’s okay. I-I have an omega sister, she gets weak too. Here, let’s go.”

He took the keys from the lock and chained them to his hip before taking Feliciano’s arm and leading him away from the wagon. The rest of the soldiers were gathered around a makeshift fire, and the guard called to one of them to play guard for a few minutes. He led Feliciano along the frosty path, giving him time to take in the surroundings.

They were in a clearing with a forest to the north and the south. They must be in the clearing that separated the Wye Forest, Avalon’s biggest forest with the Wye River nestled deep inside of it. Around them was nothing but sloping hills and a few sparse trees, not much else. He took a delicate sniff of the air, and detected nothing but snow, beech, and oak.

Feliciano tried to focus on the ice cold ground digging through the soles of his shoes instead of the shakiness of his knees. He took a deep breath of the stinging night air and watched as his exhale took form in front of him. The step-by-step plan he and Ludwig spent the better part of their day going over whirled through his mind, and he knew the consequences that would come if he messed up, if Ludwig wasn’t there to save him if something were to go wrong. His molars ground against each other. He could not afford to think like that. Ludwig would be able to do this, and so would Lovino, and Gilbert, and Matthew. They were all brave and strong.

He could be brave and strong too.

The guard stopped walking and released his hold on Feliciano’s upper arm. “Go behind that tree,” he mumbled.

Feliciano tilted his head to the side again and blinked as innocently as he could. Nothing more than the sweet little fool. “Can you please undo my ties? It’s kind of hard for me to pull-”

“Yeah,” the guard interrupted gruffly, an embarrassed scent drifting from him. He deftly untied the restraints and crossed his arms. “Just don’t try anything funny, Faerie.”

His only reply was a smile before he turned around and headed for the tree a few steps away, flexing his wrists as he went. They were almost numb from the rope, and red marks were branded against the otherwise flawless skin. The wind pulled at him, buffeting his black tunic, and practically shredding his tights. He pulled his arm closer to his chest to hide it from the guard and pushed the sleeve back to reveal the tiny wound, and when the wind blew, it carried the sweet scent with it.

He sent a silent prayer to Mab and Oberon before he stopped in his tracks, gripped his stomach, and bent his knees. The grass and frost crunched beneath the guard’s boots as he approached, and Feliciano turned his head to meet his gaze with hooded eyes and parted lips. His cheeks were darkening too, thanks to the cold and his slight embarrassment. The guard’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

“M-my heat is going… to start soon.” He gasped and hung his head, lips still parted and taking in desperate gulps of air. “Th-this gets worse the closer it gets to the heat actually starting. My body is just preparing itself, that’s all.”

Feliciano snuck a glance at the guard to see his reaction, and it was one of total shock if the open mouth and paling face were anything to go by. He dropped his hands and crept closer, keeping his eyes hooded until he was standing directly in front of the guard, watching the alpha’s nostrils flare, no doubt taking in the sweet scent his blood was making, the scent he thought was the smell of a Fae’s preheat.

“I-I guess I can take you back to your mate?” The guard looked away as Feliciano leant closer.

“My mate? Oh, no, no, no!” He chewed his bottom lip, gasping quietly as he faked another wave of agonizing pleasure. “He’s, no. He isn’t my mate, not anymore. Don’t you know? We’ve been separated for nine years, I’ve moved on.” The guard’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Feliciano ducked his head, as if he were ashamed. “Please. I need- just something. Please?”

The guard hesitated, his arms pressed firmly to his sides. “What are you asking of me?”

“Nothing.” Acting like the wave of heat preparation passed, he straightened and met the guard’s dark eyes as best as he could considering the rather humiliating circumstances he put himself in. “But, you know, only you probably don’t know because humans know nothing about the Fae, but it takes _a lot_ to satisfy us.”

Feliciano tilted his head to the side, auburn strands falling into his eyes, curled the side of his mouth to look as imploring as he could, silently willing the innuendo to sink in. He pressed his hands to the guard’s chest and smiled as softly as he could while maintaining a wanton expression. “Do you understand what I mean by a lot? A lot of alphas, like those friends of yours…”

“I get it!” the guard exclaimed. He cleared his throat, and nodded slowly at first before it picked up. “Okay, okay. I’ll… Yeah. Come on.”

The rope was still in his hands, but he didn’t move to use it. He only took Feliciano by the arm and walked him back the way they came. Feliciano couldn’t believe his success! But there was no time to get cocky, he needed to concentrate. Their plan was not yet complete. His eyes strayed to the wagon in the distance. Now it was Ludwig’s turn to play his part.

...

A game of seduction and fear was basically the plan they came up with, and Ludwig was still unsure whether or not it was a good one. It should work, he wouldn’t have allowed it if he didn’t think they could make it out, but the thought of those alphas leering at Feliciano and thinking they could just have their way with him made his skin crawl.

As much as he wanted to pummel the fools, he couldn’t. At least, not right now. He needed to concentrate. After Feliciano and the initial guard walked away, heavy footsteps approached the wagon.

“Just you and me right now, shifter!” a nasally voice shouted beyond the door.

Ludwig turned to the wall his back still rested against and focused on the noises beyond it. Shapeshifters had better sight and hearing than humans, but it was relatively limited when they weren’t in their animal forms. He needed to concentrate on the voices outside of the wagon and go from there. Several masculine voices were murmuring somewhere left of the wagon, followed by a very faint crackling. There was a fire. Feliciano’s voice was nowhere to be found, which was probably a good sign, but he would keep an ear open for any sort of warning shout. He carefully peeled his back from the wall, and began to inch himself across the floor.

He moved slowly in case the wagon rattled with his movement, alerting the soldier keeping watch. Inch by inch, he crept closer to the door until it was right in front of him. When Feliciano and the soldier departed, there had been no locking click, a successful step in their plan. Ludwig pressed his hands against the door and gave a tentative push, enough for a small crack to be made in the opening. He waited for the soldier beyond the door to catch him, but there wasn’t a sound. Ever so carefully, Ludwig continued to push open the door until it swung back completely.

The soldier, an older man with graying brown hair, spun around in alarm. “What the-”

Before he was able to finish the sentence, Ludwig’s hands were on his neck. With a small grunt, he lifted the soldier by the neck, choking him to keep any shouts at bat, and then he tossed himself back into the wagon with the soldier still in his grasp. They fell inside, and Ludwig let go in order to close the door. On the floor, the soldier coughed and spluttered with his hands splayed out behind him. His face paled as he realized he was alone with a beast.

“H-help!”

But Ludwig was too quick. With deft movements, he had his forearm smashed against the solder’s collarbone. His other hand was inside the man’s open mouth, tongue pinched between two unsheathed claws. The soldier stared at him in alarm, his revolting panicked scent stinking up the wagon.

“Listen well,” Ludwig growled softly. “If I rip your tongue out, I’ll still be able to sleep at night. So keep your mouth shut, or you won’t ever make a sound again. Am I clear?”

The soldier’s hot breath misted against Ludwig’s hand. He gave the tiniest incline of his head, and Ludwig let go of his tongue as his claws retracted themselves until they were nothing more than blunt fingernails. But as soon as he let him go, the soldier opened his mouth widely, a scream readying itself with the deep breath he took. Quickly, Ludwig’s fist was in his face. It took two hard punches until the man fell limp to the wagon floor.

_I could kill him._

Ludwig shook his head. No. No, Feliciano didn’t want to kill anyone, and Ludwig really didn’t want to either. He took a deep breath. There was no need to kill the soldier before him. Instead, Ludwig got to work shredding a piece of cloth from the man’s trousers. He tied it around the soldier’s head, allowing one piece to fit snugly inside of his mouth. There was no way he would be able to scream once he woke up. Next he took the rope his wrists were previously tied with and tied the soldier’s together. Finally, he untied the leather scabbard around the soldier’s waist and tied it to his own. This sword, a sabre, was much smaller than his Zweihander, but it would do for now. He took one last look at the unconscious guard before he quietly retreated from the wagon.

His boots crunched against the grass, but it wasn’t loud enough for a human to detect it. Besides, if the increasing volume of chatter from the other side of the wagon was anything to go by, the soldiers were too busy talking to pay attention to anything else. Someone was even playing the fiddle. He almost sighed in relief.

Quietly and cautiously, Ludwig walked down the side of the wagon until he made it to the two horses still attached to it. Stallions from their sizes and chestnut in coloring. Their ears swiveled in his direction as he crept closer. He laid a hand on one of their flanks, silently telling them he was there. This way the horses wouldn’t become spooked by his silence. Unless the wind changed direction, they shouldn’t be able to detect his predator scent either. Now all he had to do was unhook their harness from the wagon, and once he finished that he could move on to the other horses tied to their own post. Once they scattered, it would be impossible for the soldiers to catch up to him and Feliciano once they fled.

As soon as Ludwig unsheathed the sabre to take care of the harness, one of the soldiers shouted, “Dominique! Back so soon with the little Faerie?”

The soldier known as Dominique mumbled an incoherent reply before the other exclaimed, “He said _what_?” He laughed. “Well, bring him over here! We’ll take good care of him, won’t we?”

A vein pulsed against Ludwig’s temple. Maybe he would kill them after all. He focused on the harness again. Black iron was strapped around the horse’s middles, attaching them to the front of the wagon where it connected to a chain wrapped around a bulb piece of metal beneath the driver’s seat. There was no way a mere sabre could cut a chain.

“Oh, thank you,” Feliciano said in an airy voice. Ludwig was just a bit alarmed by how good of an actor his mate was- he genuinely sounded like he was about to go into heat. And thanks to the sweet smelling blood still coming from him, the soldiers would think so too. “But there is a sort of tradition that Fae complete before going into heat.”

“Huh?” One of the soldiers chuckled. “We ain’t Fae.”

“No, you’re not,” Feliciano said as Ludwig crouched in the grass and rubbed his hand around the bulb. It felt like the chains were simply wrapped around the bulb… He lifted the sabre and dug the tip between the chain and bulb as Feliciano lied with ease. “But for me to actually _go_ into heat, there’s a ritual that must be completed, otherwise I’ll be stuck in this preheat! You don’t want that, do you?”

The alphas mumbled amongst themselves until one growled, “Guess not.”

Ludwig pulled the hilt of the sword his way, pushing the chain far enough away from the bulb in order for him to slip two fingers beside the blade. They curled around the chain. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he yanked the sabre out and tossed it to the ground. The chain pinched his fingers, forcing him to grit his teeth to keep from making any noise, but he was able to pull the chain up until part of it was lifted over the bulb. He sighed softly. Now that part of it was no longer attached to the bulb, he could use it to unwind the rest.

“Great!” Feliciano exclaimed with a smile in his voice. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

Ludwig paused in his work and looked in the direction of Feliciano and the soldiers even though he couldn’t see any of them. He almost wanted to grin. There was no mating ritual used to propel an omega Fae into heat, it happened naturally, but since Avalon banned books and teachings of Fae practices, these soldiers didn’t have a clue.

He vaguely remembered an old story his father told him one night, long ago, about the Fae. He and Gilbert were laying on the floor by the fire as their father told them of the magic every Faerie held within their hands. “It is not a physical form of magic,” Aldrich had said from where he sat in his chair with the shadows dancing across his severe face. “It manifests itself in their voice and their footwork. Humans become hypnotized during their performances and are unable to look away until the end, where they drop like flies and are put into a maddening haze for days. Their power doesn’t affect other immortal beings, but humans. Humans should beware.”

Maybe Ludwig was nothing more than a sadist, but he was looking forward to the outcome of Feliciano’s plan.

...

There were five soldiers gathered around the small fire and one soldier on his feet with a fiddle in his hands, minus Dominque still at his side and the other soldier Ludwig was supposed to take care of. It wasn’t that many, Feliciano tried to tell himself. This was nothing. The shadows created by the fire dripped across the faces of the soldiers, and illuminated their silver chest pieces. Feliciano tried not to stare at the other items the fire casted its light upon, and that was their weapons. Goddess protect him.

“Are you idiots out of your minds?” one of the alphas huffed. “Omega or not, he’s Fae. They’re monsters! They take human children away from their cradles and eat them alive! Fae like him deserve to be burned like witches.”

Feliciano recognized the soldier speaking. He was directly across from him, sitting cross legged on the ground with the fire blazing in front of him. Wrinkles were pressed around his mouth and eyes, but he still had a full head of black hair. This was the alpha who forced Ludwig to stop fighting by threatening to- to do something to Feliciano. He was the one who grabbed him, and thrusted his hips against his in a mocking gesture. His stomach rolled as the alpha’s acidic green eyes traveled across his body. They paused on his hips, and he grinned.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind watching him get what he deserves. Go ahead, I give you permission.”

“Of course you’d pull rank over something like this, Captain Andrews,” an alpha beside him joked.

The man was a captain. Feliciano tried not to cringe as Andrews ran his eyes over his body once more, leering and grinning with lust. This is the man who touched him yesterday, and used his body as a means to get Ludwig to surrender. It made him sick. He wasn’t entirely sure he could do this anymore. He wondered what Lovino would do in a situation like this. His brother was so strong, he stalked through the forest with a predatory like gait and hazel eyes that narrowed in disgust at anyone who treated his family poorly. Lovino never rolled over in submission. He would never allow himself to be afraid of an alpha who touched him inappropriately, instead he’d spit in their face.

If Lovino could do it, so could Feliciano. He smiled softly as his eyes narrowed. “I greatly appreciate it, Captain Andrews.” He twisted his left foot against the ground. Seductress turned shy, unconfident with such strong alphas before him. “I need four of you to help me, please.”

Four of the alphas on the ground immediately jumped up, but Andrews wasn’t one of them. He scooted back and sat at the feet of the fiddler while Dominique stepped aside, his scent filled with unease. Feliciano turned to the fiddler and said, “Play a nice tune, please. This works better with music.”

The fiddler glanced to his captain, who nodded. Then Feliciano turned to the four alphas staring at him eagerly, and he forced himself not to squirm. “You may find it silly, and that’s okay, but there’s no way for a Fae omega’s heat to start unless this ritual is done properly. It’s a dancing ritual! Follow my lead around the fire, and don’t worry, the steps are really easy!”

The alphas just nodded, completely prepared to do whatever they needed to all in order to make him go into heat. The fiddler started his lovely tune as Feliciano stepped closer to the fire, the four soldiers lining up behind him. He smiled softly in their direction. “Here we go.”

He slid his left foot forward, raised his arms above his head, and twirled around as the tune of the fiddle turned hypnotizing. He continued the movement around the fire with the soldiers dutifully following him. To those watching, the dance would seem slow, barely more than strange, jerking movements created by drunks, but to those dancing, it was fast. Lung collapsing fast.

Catalina taught omegas in the Orlon Forest how to perfect these sorts of dances. Every Fae was born with the ability to do these things, whether it be by voice, instrument, or footwork, but perfecting them took a bit of work. Feliciano never tried it on humans before, so really, he was taking a gamble right now, but it had to work. It must, because he was a Faerie, and Faeries were strong, graceful, and hypnotic. He glanced at the sky, and caught sight of two shining stars to the west, shining in the direction of Raetia.

Mab and Oberon were watching him. They wouldn’t keep him safe, but they would fill him with strength. He took a deep breath and slid his left foot forward again, speeding up the motions. The alphas were silent behind him as they mimicked his movements, quickening their own pace in order to match his. The music seemed to pick up with screeching memento, faster faster _faster_. Frost and bits of grass were kicked into the air, and the wind blew forcefully through the valley, shaking the fire as the dancing Faerie shook the earth. One of the horses whinnied because there was _danger danger danger_ afoot; a crow cawed in the distance and it said, _beware beware beware_.

Fae were beautiful creatures, but their beauty was a weapon, honed over the centuries to make it one of the deadliest things in Esmya. The paintings that depicted the Fae dancing around the fires weren’t inaccurate, it was something they did, but what the painters forgot to add was the reason why they danced around fires.

Feliciano stopped and the four alphas fell to the ground.

The fiddler’s music halted almost just as abruptly, but Feliciano paid it no mind as he turned around with a heaving chest to look at the four men laying on the ground in a pile of armor and sweaty limbs. They twitched with eyes rolled back into their skulls, foam dripping from their mouths. It worked. By the goddess, it actually worked.

“Wh-what the hell was that?” Andrews exclaimed. Feliciano slowly looked in his direction as the alpha scrambled to his feet, his face a strange mixture of green and white. “What did you do to them?”

Feliciano smiled lazily, hoping no one saw the tremor traveling through him. “There is no such thing as a dance for a coming heat, I made it up. I’m not even in preheat.” He pushed his sleeve back to reveal the wound that had long since stopped bleeding. “The sweet smell came from my blood; a Fae’s heat scent doesn’t smell any different than a human’s.” The captain’s eyes widened. “As for my dance, well. Haven’t you heard the old warnings? Never dance with a Faerie, or you will be in a state of madness for days.”

“You’re a witch,” the fiddler whispered as he slowly backed away.

Feliciano blinked. “I have a very good friend who is a witch, and I don’t think he would appreciate you defiling his title in such a way.” He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “I’m just a Faerie.”

Andrews looked very close to choking. “The shifter,” he growled out. “The shifter, where is he? Check on him!” Neither the fiddler nor Dominque moved. “Do something, you fools! Either check on the shifter or tie this bitch back up!”

Once again, they didn’t move. They were immobilized with wide eyes trained on him. It was a new feeling, to have others fear him. Andrews snarled, and, without any kind of warning, sprang for him. Feliciano didn’t move as Andrews grabbed his wrist in one hand and snaked an arm around his waist, smashing their chests together. His scent was filled with anger and humiliation, but there was fear within it too. Fear for Feliciano.

“You’re a high and mighty bitch,” Andrews hissed, his hot breath clogging Feliciano’s senses. For a moment, he too was terrified this man was going to overpower him, send him to the ground, have his way with- _no_. “You won’t be so smug once I’ve forced my way inside you, you little whore.”

Feliciano almost cringed from the verbal assault, but he steeled his nerves. In the long run, this man would be insignificant, nothing more than a pebble in his path. He would rot in the earth while Feliciano lived out his long immortal life. He was nothing. Nothing but an alpha who thought he deserved the world. So he smiled, showing his elongated canines.

“I’m a Faerie, and you’re a human. If you were to force your way inside, I wouldn’t even be able to feel you.” As payback for the way Andrews grabbed him yesterday, Feliciano tilted his head back and spat right in his face. “A human alpha could never please an omega Fae.”

The captain’s face contorted in fury. He snarled, released his waist, and pulled his own arm back, ready to smash Feliciano apart, but Feliciano didn’t even flinch because he saw who was behind Andrews.

Ludwig’s hand covered Andrews’s fist, forcing him to stop mid-swing. The captain gasped, froze, and let go of Feliciano completely. But Ludwig didn’t let go of the alpha, and from the stone cold anger on his face, Feliciano doubted he would. He didn’t say a word, he only turned Andrews around as if he were nothing more than a doll and slammed his fist against the man’s face three times. Feliciano closed his eyes and flinched, but he still heard the sound of crunching bones before Andrews fell to the ground beside his gone-mad companions.

The fiddler and Dominique were still standing in their spots, shell shocked. Ludwig glared at them both. “Get lost. And don’t bother trying to find yourself a horse, I’m sure they’re long gone by now.”

The two alphas were shaken from their stupor, and immediately fled, heading back the way they came without any sort of care for their fallen companions. The only sound filling the air was the crackle of the fire. Feliciano gasped and wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck, drinking in the comforting pine-scent of his mate, who in turn held him by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Ludwig asked, running his hands down his back. “Did they hurt you?”

“N-no,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of Ludwig’s neck, his toes straining from the effort to keep him in such a position. “No, I’m fine, Ludwig. I’m fine. I just- oh, wow. I can’t believe we did that.”

They did it, they were actually able to trick the soldiers! Now they were free, and could look for Elias, Matthew, and Gilbert. Feliciano was so relieved, his body began trembling and black spots danced in the corners of his eyes, but Ludwig was holding him up, keeping their bodies pressed together. He sighed softly and nuzzled his mate’s uninjured shoulder. They were safe. He drew his head back when he felt Ludwig’s body begin to shake. His eyes widened when he took in the frighteningly white complexion before him.

“Are _you_ okay, Ludwig? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Ludwig murmured, drawing him back in. Feliciano blinked in shock, especially when he heard, “I was just scared that they would hurt you.”

Feliciano believed him, because Ludwig seemed to have developed some sort of fear regarding his wellbeing. Of course it was something he always worried about, but never to this extent. He wondered why Ludwig was suddenly so concerned over his safety. He should ask, but for now he stroked his back and hummed, “I knew you would protect me.”

They parted slowly, and Feliciano was struck still by the glistening blue eyes above him. He wanted to kiss Ludwig, take his time, and- and do so much with his loving mate, but this was not the place. As soon as he looked away and gazed at the bodies on the ground, he covered his mouth. Now that they were safe, he was able to assess the damage committed by their hands. The four victims to the maddening Faerie dance still twitched while the captain’s body was as still as stone. He didn’t want anyone to die, no matter who they were, and maybe these alphas weren’t dead but still. Who were Feliciano and Ludwig to dictate who lived and died?

Ludwig’s hand fell against his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It’s hard to look at them, but remember, what we did to them is nothing compared to what they would have done to us.”

He knew Ludwig was right. This kept Elias safe too, and Feliciano knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill if it meant protecting his son. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “I know. What should we do with them?”

Ludwig knelt to the ground and pressed two fingers to the side of the captain’s neck. “His pulse is weak. He probably won’t wake up until tomorrow, and then he can decide what to do with his men. For now the fire should keep away any sort of predators.” His eyes met Feliciano’s as thunder growled in the distance. “But we can move them if you want.”

From the darkness in Ludwig’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t want to. Feliciano hesitated. Moving them would be the right thing, and just because they were Avalonian soldiers didn’t mean they were automatically evil- Dominique had seemed like a decent man. But these soldiers were prepared to hurt him in unimaginable ways... His gaze drifted to Ludwig’s shoulder where the daemon’s scratch was beginning to scab while his thoughts drifted to Elias, alone with Gilbert and Matthew. He should leave these men to the elements and animals, let them freeze to death.

“Let’s put them in the wagon,” he murmured. He was too weak to kill anyone.

Ludwig blinked slowly, his mouth a firm line against a blank canvas. Feliciano thought he would refuse, but then he stood, picked up the captain, and walked him to the wagon. Once the rest were taken care of, Ludwig said, “The coming storm should take care of the fire.” Feliciano nodded. They were quiet as Ludwig untied the scabbard from his hip, and wrapped it around his. “It takes strength and courage to let your enemies live. You’re much braver than I am, Feliciano.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened. He wanted to disagree and say how ridiculous that statement was, but Ludwig shifted before he had the chance. A small smile graced his lips as the wolf lowered himself to the ground in order for him to get on. “You give me too much credit.”

Then they were off, bounding for the Wye Forest before them as dark clouds erased the moon and stars.

...

By the time Feliciano and Ludwig stopped, the trees were moaning an unending song in the harsh wind and the thunder roared right on top of them. It was by pure luck they found an inn tucked within the forest, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. People lived in the Wye Forest, it wasn’t a dense thicket like the Orlon Forest.

Feliciano slid off of Ludwig’s back in order for him to shift back into his human form, and when he did, he took the sword from Feliciano’s waist and tied it around his own. “We can stay here for the night.”

It was a quaint, one-story building made of russet bricks and black shutters, all closed due to the oncoming storm. There weren’t any horses tied to the post, but that didn’t automatically mean there weren’t any other travelers inside. Feliciano looked to the sign in front of them, swinging from a post in the ground. Songbird’s Inn was painted across the wood in bright blue, fit with a little yellow canary perched atop the ‘d’. It certainly seemed like a nice place, really anything would do to get out of the approaching storm, but there was one tiny problem.

“We don’t have any money,” said Feliciano dejectedly. “Gilbert told me he and Matthew stole a blanket from an inn by pretending Matthew was pregnant. Maybe we can get a free room if we pretend too.”

Ludwig turned to him in surprise. “I have money.” He leant down and slipped a hand into his right knee-high boot, and when he pulled it out a black coin pouch was in his grasp. Feliciano watched, amazed, as Ludwig fished a handful of coins from the bag. “This is more than enough for one night.”

“You have a pouch full of _gold_? And you were hiding it in your boot?!”

“I was an Avalonian general,” he muttered, slipping the coins back into the pouch until only two remained in his hand. “There was a paycheck to be made. And this outfit doesn’t have any kind of pockets, so…” It was hard to see it clearly in the dark, but it looked like his face was progressively becoming redder. “I wasn’t planning on keeping it all for myself. Obviously you can use it too.”

Feliciano laughed as he wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s bicep. “When we get to a market town, you’re buying me an outfit.”

Ludwig’s arm relaxed beneath his touch. “Very well.” They made their way to the front door of Songbird’s Inn, but right before they entered, Ludwig said, “I must warn you. I’m still wearing the uniform of the King’s elite soldiers. The people inside may act strangely when they see it.”

The roaring lion stitched across the leather chest piece, the ominous black pressed against his body, of course Avalonian’s would recognize the uniform as an elite soldier’s, or as they called them, a Shadow Soldier’s. “I’ll keep it in mind. Oh, my glamour is in place too, so they won’t notice my ears.”

“Perfect.”

They walked inside without another word. The lobby was as cozy as the outside with a roaring fire to the far left of the room with two plush chairs in front of it, currently occupied by two older men. They walked over to the front desk, illuminated by the fire, where a tired middle aged beta woman smiled at them.

“Good night, gentlemen. Come to escape the storm…” But she trailed off with widened eyes as she stared at Ludwig’s chest, and then she quickly bowed her head. “I-I’m so sorry. I meant to say, good night, sir! We never get any sort of high ranking officers, so excuse me if I’m lacking in manners! As a part of Avalon’s military, your stay is completely free!”

The woman’s scent was filled with fear, even her voice shook with it. Her head was still dipped, graying blonde hair falling messily from its bun. Feliciano could feel the eyes of the men from the chair’s on their backs, anticipating whatever they thought would happen next. He realized these people viewed Ludwig the same way he viewed the guards and soldiers in Berkley. Thugs, like the ones who nearly beat Matthew. That’s what Ludwig meant by being treated differently. His mouth filled with cotton. Armies were supposed to make the people of their kingdoms feel safe, but it was clear Avalon’s army did the exact opposite.

Ludwig’s voice was an octave higher than usual as he murmured, “You haven’t offended me, Miss, and I wouldn’t steal from you. Here.” He placed two gold coins on top of the counter, and the woman raised her head in surprise. “We would like a room for one night, that’s all.”

The woman shakily took the coins as her lips flapped uselessly. “This- this is two times the price for one night!”

“Keep it. I have more than enough.” Ludwig nodded toward the entrance to what was presumably the hallway. “Do you have any rooms available?”

“O-oh. Yes.” Her fingers curled around the gold before she lowered herself to the floor only to reappear with a key. “I do hope it is to your fancy, sir.” She nodded quickly to Feliciano, but her eyes did not stray far from the emblem on Ludwig’s chest. “Please let me know if you need any extra blankets or pillows; the powder room is the last door on the left.”

Ludwig nodded. “Thank you.” He guided Feliciano, who smiled kindly at the woman, out of the lobby and into the dark hallway where they quietly hurried to their room. Feliciano thought his heart might burst from adoration for his mate. He didn’t need to give her so much, but he did because he was Ludwig, and he was good. He was always so good.

They found their room and stepped inside. It was dark, the candle sticks on top of the desk shoved in the corner were unlit. There was a single bed in the center of the room and a circular table beside it, but that was it. It was more than enough for one night. Feliciano let out a relieved sigh as he kicked his pointed shoes off and raced for the bed, flopping on top of it with little abandon.

“Ah! The pillows are so soft!”

A soft light bathed the room, and Feliciano lifted his head to watch Ludwig place a box of matches down and pressed the tip of one to the three candle sticks. The box must have been on the desk. It illuminated his large frame, and the deep bruises beneath his eyes. Feliciano climbed to his knees. “How is your wound? Does it hurt?”

“It’s fine,” came the quiet reply. “I think it looks worse than it actually is.”

Ludwig said nothing else as he sat on the edge of the bed beside him with straight posture and rolled back shoulders. His body looked like a soldier ready for battle, but his face told the story of a defeated man. Feliciano didn’t like that. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s upper body and kissed the top of his head.

“My alpha is kind,” he whispered with a small smile. “And good. He’s the best in the entire world. I mean it, I think the gods themselves bestowed their blessings on him.”

Ludwig was silent, so Feliciano did not let go. He only continued to hold his strong, gentle alpha. His savior, and companion; his world. It didn’t matter than he wore Avalon’s uniform, that he was a _berserkr_, or that he hadn’t said what it was he did in Camelot for nine years. What mattered was his kindness and generosity. He was the best person Feliciano had ever met, and nothing would ever change that. Nothing ever could.

Finally, he spoke. “We need to get some rest. Do you want to bathe?”

Feliciano dropped his arms and smiled, only to have it fall when he saw Ludwig’s eyes were on the candles. “I probably need to.” He wanted to ask if Ludwig would accompany him, but he looked so… tired. It would be best if he stayed here to sleep. “I’ll be back soon then.”

He started to climb off of the bed. “Feliciano.” He froze, and looked back up at his mate who had yet to move. His hands were balled into fists on his lap, and his eyes were still on the candles. A feather of a muscle twitched against his jaw. “When you come back, I want to talk to you about something, if that’s okay.”

His voice was so quiet, a human wouldn’t have heard it. Feliciano’s stomach tightened with dread and his skin prickled uncomfortably as he took in the words. The contents of their discussion would not be pleasant, he could tell already, but that didn’t matter because it sounded like Ludwig was finally going to talk. About what, he didn’t know, but he promised he would listen.

“I’ll try to hurry.”

...

There wasn’t much to do while he waited for Feliciano to come back. After peeling off the boots, chest piece, and vambraces around his forearms and setting them by the desk, he unstrapped the sabre and rested it at the side of the bed just in case he needed to use it sometime during the night. He rolled the sleeves of his black shirt to his elbows but rolled them back down when he saw the scars flecked across the skin.

He didn’t want Feliciano to see his scars for two reasons: he knew Feliciano would cry from the sight, and he didn’t want to be painted as a victim in the eyes of his mate. If Feliciano saw what horrors he had faced before he was able to say what he had done… That wouldn’t be fair. His gentle mate would become biased and would easily forgive him despite the atrocities committed at his hands.

All Ludwig could really do was sit on the edge of the bed and wait. Rain pounded against the rooftops and lightning brightened the room every now and then. He counted the rolls of thunder as he waited, trying to clear his mind before he grew too anxious and dove out the window. The consequences that were to come were justified. Once they met up with the others, Feliciano would take Elias and leave. Gilbert may even scoff and walk away too. Only he and Matthew would be left, just two liars who tried to pretend they were somehow better than they actually were.

There was only one story Ludwig planned on recounting tonight because Feliciano deserved to know. By the gods, he deserved so much more than just one, but it was the only thing he was capable of giving right now.

Just when Ludwig thought he couldn’t take anymore waiting, the door opened and Feliciano walked in with wet hair and his old clothes back on. The black tunic hung from his body, and even the brown tights looked one size too big. His brown belt was in his hands, and he dropped it to the floor as he took off his shoes. He wore a hesitant smile as he sat down beside Ludwig.

“They didn’t have a bathtub,” he said. “Just running water and a bucket, but there was soap so it wasn’t all that bad.”

“I’m glad.” Ludwig inwardly cringed from the sound of his scratchy voice. He cleared it and ran his sweaty palms across his thighs. He could stall by asking questions about Matthew’s quest, or answer questions about the _berserkr_ thing. No, he needed to tell Feliciano about… about the incident a few months ago. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, but the common tongue fled his mind. What could he say? Absolutely nothing. He was a gods damned coward. Feliciano was wrong. He wasn’t a good alpha, he was despicable. The worst. Feliciano deserved someone better, and so did Elias. They shouldn’t be associated with someone so… so…

Feliciano took one of his hands, and ran a soft thumb across his bruised knuckle. In a quiet voice, he murmured, “This is about Camelot, isn’t it?”

Always so clever. “Yes.”

A deafening roar shook the entire inn, but neither flinched. Feliciano continued to stroke his knuckle. “I’m here to listen, but if you think it’s too soon, we can wait-”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I need to tell you something now because I- I can’t keep-” The breath caught in the back of his throat, and his lungs tightened to the point of pain. He closed his eyes. “I can’t keep deceiving you, Feliciano. It isn’t fair.”

He expected the words to drive Feliciano away, but he only tightened his grip and whispered, “It’s okay, Ludwig, just take your time. Even if it takes all night, I’ll listen.”

Of course he would because he’s selfless.

And Ludwig was sick of being selfish.

He took a deep, unsteady breath, and exhaled slowly. In a voice that did not sound like his own, he began his tale. “In Camelot, I was General Beilschmidt. I was in charge of the shapeshifters of Avalon’s army, and was considered an important part of military life. The King made me sit in during meetings and asked for my opinion on several matters, he even asked me to train units of human soldiers who were inadequate in battle or behavior. There was- was another job I had.” _Killer, torturer, monster._ “But… but I can’t- can’t say it.”

Feliciano brought his limp hand to his lips. “That’s okay.”

It wasn’t but he didn’t bother correcting him. After another deep breath, he continued. “Apart from military obligations, I didn’t have a voice in the palace. I was still a prisoner with limited freedoms, and I learned to keep quiet even when I didn’t want to.” Every time the King taunted Kiku or Ayiana, he would grind his teeth together or bite his tongue until it bled, but if he said something out loud, the King would punish _them_ in some kind of way. It was sickening. Maddening. His heart began to speed up as he thought of another favorite victim of Alexander’s.

“Prince Alfred and I never got along,” he whispered. His mind conjured an image of the bright-eyed Crown Prince. A lanky, awkward seventeen year-old alpha with crooked glasses and acne littered across his face who preferred books and history to the sweat of the training grounds. He was nothing more than a boy. “I met him when he was ten years-old and he was terrified of me. I can’t really blame him.” Feliciano squeezed his hand. “As the Crown Prince of Avalon, there are many things Alfred is expected to do, and one of them is to mate with a wealthy noble omega that will benefit Avalon in some way, whether it be financially, militarily, or something similar. Alfred was not keen to that idea.

Alfred has a personal guard named Arthur, an omega four years older than him. He was given to the Prince for his tenth birthday, but he’d been a captive in the palace two years prior that day.” They were similar in that regard. “It’s unusual for omegas to hold any sort of military rank in Avalon, but Arthur was experimented on and turned into something known as an Ironteeth witch.”

“I’ve heard of them,” murmured Feliciano. “They’re omegas who have their blood infused with dragon and witch blood, right?”

“Yes.” He witnessed his fair share of Ironteeth witch experiments. They were some of Alexander’s favorite; it was a miracle he never experimented on Kiku or Sakura. “Because he had inhuman power, he was deemed worthy enough to be the guard of the Prince, but he wasn’t treated right. Most omegas in Camelot aren’t.” He closed his eyes again. Now… “Alfred was quite taken with Arthur, I figured that out on accident when I caught them in the garden. I didn’t tell a soul because something like that was punishable by death, at least for Arthur. Then.” _Idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot_ “Then a few months ago, the King grew suspicious, said the way they acted around each other was not appropriate behavior for a Prince and guard.”

_It was a hot day, the height of summer, and Ludwig was sweating beneath his uniform as he stood inside the King’s office, waiting for his orders to be given. He was tired that day, more so than usual. Yesterday marked nine whole years since the last time he had seen his family, and the thought plagued him to the point of sickness. The last thing he wanted to do was take orders from the evil man before him, but he had long since realized he didn’t have a choice._

“Alexander came up with a punishment for them,” he whispered, eyes widening as he recounted every single detail. Were there tears burning his eyes? “It involved shapeshifters so I was called to his office.”

_King Alexander sat behind his dark brown mahogany desk, alabaster skin dry, completely unbothered by the lit fireplace to the left. The orange flames were in the mouth of a roaring iron lion; it was his pride and joy. The King should be seventy-three, but with the use of black magic, he didn’t look a day over forty-five. Blue eyes, neatly combed sand colored hair, and the dusting of a beard across his jaw. His fists were atop his desk, not bothering to push up the glasses sliding down his nose. Physically, he was not a large man, but it would be improper to call him scrawny. He was somewhere in between._

_“Who are your most ruthless shifters, General?” King Alexander asked in that cold, deep way of his. “Who are the two you have to punish most often?”_

_“Gunther and Doxis, Your Majesty.”_

_“They did nothing wrong, this is a punishment for my incompetent son. Tell them they are to report to the dining hall tomorrow night with orders to perform sexual intercourse with Arthur Kirkland as a dinnertime show. This will teach my son and his guard there are consequences for disobeying my rules.”_

“What?” Feliciano’s voice was thick, like he was close to tears. Ludwig didn’t dare look. “As a punishment for- for being in some kind of secret relationship, he humiliated Arthur?”

“Yes.” Ludwig’s face began to burn. He lifted his free hand into his hair and wrapped his fingers around the strands, and pulled them until his scalp ached. He needed to do something or he would explode. “But it- they didn’t… I was so fucking _stupid_,” he whispered, but it sounded like a scream. A cry, a moan, a gasp for breath before he died. “I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

_The first thing that came to Ludwig’s mind was a hot night seventeen years ago. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he went for a walk when he heard a cry for help. He followed it and found an omega trapped with three shapeshifter alphas, who leered and grinned and pawed. He fought them off, chased them away, and when he looked back at the omega, he saw an amber-eyed beauty staring back. The mysterious omega was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. They thanked him, dressed his wound, laughed, and blushed, and kissed his cheek when they were in the village._

_For some reason, that was the only thing Ludwig could think of as Alexander explained his punishment. A gorgeous Fae omega who smiled like the sun and danced under the moon was the only thing in his mind as he said, “With all due respect, Your Majesty, that punishment is too cruel.”_

_King Alexander stared at him for a long while without saying a word. Then he did the one thing Ludwig had never seen him do before: he smiled. “Then you do it, General.”_

The dull throb pulsing from his scalp was nothing more than a slight touch, the warm tear cascading down his cheek burned him the entire way down and reminded him of his cowardice. He unhooked the fingers tangled in his hair and let the strands fall limply to his forehead. “I couldn’t- couldn’t keep my morals to myself, and because of that I ended up being punished too.”

He never wanted to relive that searing humiliation that burned beneath his skin as he laid on the divan with Arthur, but it was something he could never forget. Alfred initially screamed at his father and told him to stop it all, but he was shut down before too long. Arthur hadn’t cried or shouted, he knew Ludwig didn’t want to do it either. He knew they didn’t have any other choice. This was what they had to do, what their King had ordered them to do.

Tears fell freely from Ludwig’s eyes as he pressed his hand to his face, trying to cover himself from the disgust worming its way through his body, and into his heart. It would have been better to spit on Feliciano’s name rather than do what he had done, all because he couldn’t shut up. He just had to play the hero, as Gilbert would say. Only dishonorable alpha _mutts_ sleep with omegas behind their mate’s back, and that’s all he was. A disgusting, horrible, wretched alpha who didn’t deserve the kisses Feliciano still gave him, or the sweet words, or- or anything. He didn’t deserve to even look in his direction.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, throat dry and torn and bleeding. But he deserved it all. Feliciano still held his hand, probably because he was in shock, so Ludwig started to move it away. “I’m sorry. You- you can leave now.” And Ludwig would be okay, because Feliciano would be happy without him. It was worth it. “But you deserved to know, I couldn’t keep deceiving you. It was killing me.”

The rain continued to pelt against the roof, the occasional roar of thunder rattled the closed shutters, and the small flames on the wicks of the candles flickered. Natural phenomenon. Life moves on. Once upon a time Ludwig thought his life would be filled with fields of wildflowers, soft singing, and bright laughter, of a house, a gorgeous Fae mate and maybe a few children. His brother was happy with a family of his own. There was no such thing as a tyrant king or a dying continent, there was only love and peace. But life was not a fairy tale. His life wouldn’t be filled with anything close to that, not anymore. That dream ended the moment he claimed King Alexander’s punishment to be too cruel. Or maybe it ended before that, when he was handed a dagger and told to ‘get to work’ in the unnaturally cold and dark dungeon. Either way, it was gone, for any moment now Feliciano would get up and walk out the door. He was happy to spend these past few days with him though, they could get him through whatever else was thrown his way, at least for a little while.

The bed dipped as Feliciano shifted, but Ludwig did not look up from the floor. The sight of his mate leaving for good would shatter the last of his resolve, and it would leave him immobilized in this room forever. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he waited for the weight to lift from the bed, but it never did. Instead thin arms wrapped themselves around his head and pulled him to the side, so his cheek was pressed against a chest.

Ludwig dared himself to look up as his heart stilled. The rain ceased, the clouds parted, and the world fell away as he stared at Feliciano, kneeling atop the bed, his body completely facing him, with tears cascading down his face. Silver lined once bright amber eyes, and droplets of tears clung to dark lashes.

“Leave?” whispered Feliciano breathlessly. “You think I’m going to leave? How could I, when you’re falling apart right in front of me. If I’m gone, who is going to mend you back together?” He sniffled and dropped his hands to cup Ludwig’s cheeks, and he was too stunned to stop him. Feliciano’s voice grew in volume as he exclaimed, “I told you, didn’t I? My alpha is kind and good, and you _are_. You are…” A gasp, a sob, and then, “You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

Ludwig didn’t understand. Why was Feliciano saying any of this? Did he hear what his “good selfless alpha” had done? “But I- I slept with another omega.”

There. He said the words, spelt it out for Feliciano. The divan in the center of the dining hall, Arthur’s pale face and cold hands, his own quick breathing and wishes for death, Alfred’s initial screams, it was all on repeat in his mind. But it didn’t matter, the pain and suffering, because Ludwig had, technically, chosen an omega he barely knew over his mate.

He expected Feliciano to finally get up once he said the words, but he didn’t. He just brought their heads closer together as the storm outside exploded. “Not willingly,” he whispered brokenly. “What, Ludwig? You think just because you’re an alpha you can’t be forced into anything? That’s stupid. That’s so stupid.”

And then Feliciano wrapped his arms around his neck and lowered himself into his lap, burying his face against his scarred neck. He was still too stunned to move. The room was filled with Feliciano’s gasping sobs as he whispered over and over again, “_I’m_ sorry, Ludwig. _I’m_ sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I know it was a lot, I know there was more, but- but… oh, Ludwig, it’s going to be okay now because you’re with me. You’re safe. I promise. You’re home, you’re home, you’re home, and I am never, ever leaving you because _you_ are _my_ home.

I love you, Ludwig.” Feliciano’s lips were damp as they touched his neck, and his words were choked on a sob as they were painted against the marred skin, but they snapped another layer of chains immobilizing him and healed a tiny part of his cracked soul.

Tears continued to fall from his eyes, but they didn’t matter as he slowly wrapped his arms around Feliciano’s small waist and pulled him closer, but his hesitant touch was replaced by a stronger one not long after, and Feliciano responded by tightening his own grip. They did not speak as they held each other and cried as the world outside cried with them. Immortals didn’t typically deem nine years as more than a speck on a very long calendar, but for them, it was ages.

It was long enough for a child to be born and raised in a forest, it was long enough for once soft, fragile skin to be hardened into a fighter’s, and it was long enough for a warrior to be broken and shackled. Nine years was a long time when it was filled with suffering. Nine years of wishing yourself dead, of cursing the gods above for allowing you to open your eyes every morning, it was hell. Agony. But right now, two suffering souls were holding each other and completing the beginnings of healing just by crying, by letting the other know they weren’t okay, but they were going to be. Because they had each other.

Their eyes found each other’s once their throats were raw. Sunny amber eyes melted icy blue orbs, or maybe it was the small smile beneath the warm gaze. A gentle hand cupped his face, and he leant into it, desperate for the loving touch he was starved from. “We’re going to make it through this, my darling. All of us will.”

Ludwig hadn’t the slightest idea how no one else, alpha or omega, had done everything in their power to make Feliciano their mate. He was radiant, a light that could never be extinguished. He was everything Ludwig ever wanted without even realizing it, and- and instead of shunning him for something that was out of his control, he rocked him through the pain. There was no jealousy or anger in his scent, only sadness and concern. He said Ludwig was the best person in the world, but he was wrong because _he_, Feliciano, held that title. He was innocent, and selfless, and merciful. Avalon needed someone like him on the throne.

But for now, Feliciano was his, and he was Feliciano’s. And maybe they both realized they were alone right now, and there was one less barrier between them, for Feliciano wrapped his arms back around his neck, and Ludwig’s hands slid beneath his tunic and held his bare waist. Feliciano looked away with a steadily rising blush, so he leant forward and kissed his neck.

“Do you want to go to bed?” His throat was still raw, and the question sounded strange to him, but he needed to make sure. He didn’t want to push or demand.

Feliciano’s pinkie finger wrapped around his own as a sweetening scent enveloped the room, making Ludwig dizzy. “No.” He drew his head back, and their eyes met once again. Feliciano looked like a queen as the light from the candles created a soft hue around his head, shining brightly against his drying auburn hair. If he were a queen, Ludwig would loyally serve him as a knight, a guard, a protector- a _berserkr_.

“I want you to remate me, Ludwig.” The bold words tightened his stomach and left him momentarily breathless until Feliciano looked away almost shyly and whispered, “If you want to, that is.”

It was almost hard to believe he thought Feliciano would leave him fifteen minutes ago. Now he was asking to be as close as possible. It was rare to see him so shy, too. Ludwig smiled softly and leant forward to kiss him softly in reply. Feliciano wrapped his legs around his waist, and Ludwig turned them around and gently lowered his omega to the bed.

And nothing else mattered.

The first time they mated, they were both nervous, and had no idea what to expect. There was a similar emotion swirling around Ludwig now as he kissed away the dry tears against Feliciano’s face and ran his hands over his body. There was such a sweet scent coming from him, it was all Ludwig could smell. It filled him to the brim and made his heart beat so loudly, he was sure Feliciano could hear it. From the hand that slid along his chest and rested against it, the answer was clear.

Ludwig stilled when Feliciano removed his tunic. The light of the candles turned already sun kissed skin into caramel, but the sheer beauty of him is not what made Ludwig pause. It was the protruding ribs and hips, the bones he could see so clearly. It was the two dark scars painted across his skin, a vertical one along his stomach and a deep scratch mark against his right pectoral. His body was so new. Slowly, Ludwig ran his fingers along Feliciano’s stomach, and watched as he shivered and smiled softly.

“That’s my favorite scar.” It was such a Feliciano thing to say, Ludwig couldn’t help himself from leaning down and running his lips across the marred skin. He trailed them back up, across the shivering body, until they were atop the mark he didn’t know about. He kissed it anyway as Feliciano’s fingers fell into his hair. “I was attacked by a cougar, but it’s okay. I made it out alive.”

Ludwig’s breath stuttered by the surprising words, but Feliciano pulled his head back up and kissed him before he could say anything that might ruin the steadily-building mood. They kissed until Feliciano started taking his black shirt off. He pulled back with his heart pounding in his stomach. His body was littered with… with scars. Ugly, horrific scars that were probably tattooed across his bones. Feliciano blinked quizzically as his nostrils flared slightly, detecting the change in his scent. Understanding filled his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Let me see.”

His back burned, like the whip that originally tore through his skin was doing it again. The chains rattled every time the whip came down, but he didn’t make a single noise. Even as black spots filled his vision, even as the smell of his own blood almost made him gag, he didn’t make any sort of noise until he was told to count. Every time he missed a number, it went back down to zero. He didn’t start counting until his body nearly gave out. His back had been shredded.

A gentle hand pressed against his cheek, taking him from the horror he experienced seven years ago. The palm was soft and warm and familiar. He closed his eyes, and leant into it. “I’m scarred, Feliciano. Badly.”

The tips of Feliciano’s fingers massaged his temple as tears filled his amber eyes. Even so, he smiled. “That’s okay.”

Slowly, Ludwig moved to his knees with Feliciano following. He held the hem of Ludwig’s black shirt and pulled it over his head, and then he removed the undershirt, the final piece of clothing hiding his upper body. Then Feliciano froze and Ludwig closed his eyes. His body was sculpted in muscle, more so than before. The perfect alpha warrior. But it was filled with scars. Little ticks across his arms, stabs across his abdomen, claw marks etched against his sides, and a gouge against his chest. The only one Feliciano would be familiar with if he witnessed what happened nine years ago, when a soldier caught him by surprise and sank their sword through his chest. It almost killed him, but a healer had been there with magic, the rarest form, and made sure he wouldn’t die by orders from the soldiers.

But his back… his back was the worst. Whip lashes marred the now risen skin. Some nights he woke up thinking the wound had opened back up and he was bleeding out on the bed, but it was always his imagination. That never made him feel any better. He was disgusting. His hands scarred others while his own body was filled with its own marks. And they held no sort of honor.

He opened his eyes when the ticklish sensation of lips fluttered against him. Feliciano kissed the gouge on his chest, and then trailed down to the next scar, and the next, and the next. With every kiss, the scars along his body seemed to vanish. They were still physically there, but their weights released. His breath hitched and his knees shook against the bed. He didn’t deserve this bright Fae. No one in Esmya did.

“You’re beautiful, Ludwig,” Feliciano whispered with a fresh tear against his cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Ludwig knew he was crying too, but he didn’t bother to wipe away the tears as he drew Feliciano back against his chest and lowered them to the bed. It was so easy after that. Their remaining clothes fell away without another thought, and when Ludwig took in the lithe body beneath him, the tantalizing, too-skinny body, he shivered because all of this was his. It wasn’t a possessive, alpha thought, he didn’t wish to dirty his omega’s flesh by marking it. It was, however, true. They belonged to each other, and they always would. This cunning, teasing, little Fae was his beloved, his _life_. And he would never leave him alone again.

Feliciano stared into his eyes as he spread his legs and whispered, “It’s- it’s been a really long time since I’ve done this.”

The words made Ludwig shiver. He was unable to give Feliciano any sort of pleasure for nine years. That was going to change. He kissed Feliciano’s waiting lips before he lowered himself between the spread, bent legs beneath him. Soft gasps turned into mewls as Ludwig lowered his head further to his beloved’s most secret place. He couldn’t hear the rain or thunder, only Feliciano’s quiet moans. He pushed himself back up and hovered over his Fae, and their eyes stayed locked on one another as Feliciano reached between them, held Ludwig, and guided him inside.

Ludwig moved slowly, savoring every single feeling coursing through his body, took in every pleased sound Feliciano made. Red painted his face. His lips were open, allowing sound after sound to tumble out, and his eyes were hooded. He wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck as his legs took hold of his waist and brought him closer. They moved together, slowly, gently, piecing each other back together, renewing one another with their words and touches. Feliciano did not claw Ludwig’s back, and Ludwig did not create bruises along Feliciano’s neck. This was not an animalistic frenzy filled with possession and desire, this was reunion. Exploring each other’s bodies, touching every inch of skin in sight, and kissing each other after every moan.

Only when Feliciano’s sounds grew more desperate, as he tightened his grip and called his name to the gods, and exposed his neck did Ludwig deem it appropriate to show his teeth. The junction between his neck and shoulder was flawless, the original mating mark having long since disappeared after years of no renewal. Ludwig lowered his head and sank his teeth into the warm, sweat dampened skin and let the sounds of Feliciano’s blissful release carry him through his own as his teeth burrowed their way through the skin and the flavor of sweet nectar exploded over his tongue.

They collapsed against one another, panting, sweating, and shivering. Exhausted limbs lifted the blankets and crawled beneath them, only to press against each other once again. Ludwig rested his head against Feliciano’s chest with his hand atop the scarred stomach. Feliciano’s hand laced together with his, the golden band shining in the candlelight. Ludwig’s own ring shone beside it, two rings together again. He lazily kissed the side of Feliciano’s chest before relaxing against him with his body shivering almost uncontrollably.

Feliciano kissed the top of his head and said nothing about the tremors, he only tightened the grip around his waist. “I think we need new vows,” he whispered sleepily.

Ludwig smiled and closed his eyes. He could not recall the last time sleep beckoned him in such a way. “You’re right.” Another vow, a better one. One that has aged with them. It wasn’t that hard to think of one. “Feliciano, I promise to follow you into Hell itself if you walk through it. I will not throw my life away for you, as you have told me not to, but I will always be there to protect you. Not as your warrior or _berserkr_, but as your mate. I’m here for you.”

He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed Feliciano’s. “I will uphold this vow until my last breath, Feliciano Beilschmidt.”

Feliciano kissed the top of his head. “I approve of your vow.” Ludwig responded by leaning further into his mate. “I vow, Ludwig, no matter what happens, no matter where you go, I’m going to be there for you. Whether it’s Camelot, or the Eastern Continent, or Hell, I’m going to be there with you. You won’t ever have to be alone again. I’m going to be there, in your dreams and by your side when you wake.” He kissed Ludwig’s hand, and whispered, “I, too, will uphold this vow until my last breath, Ludwig Beilschmidt.”

Feliciano’s hand stroked his waist with a touch as gentle as his voice as he whispered, “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over you this time!”

The old tradition where an alpha was supposed to watch over their omega the night after they first mated. Ludwig smiled and kissed his omega’s chest. “I would be honored.”

Ludwig fell asleep with Feliciano’s soft singing in his ears, content and lucky to be immortal so he could listen to Feliciano’s songs without falling into a pit of madness. Instead Feliciano’s music wrapped him in a different kind of spell.

As the rain continued to pelt the roof, and as the candles’ flames died down, Feliciano held Ludwig close. His eyes took in his gentle mate barely making a sound as he slept, hopefully, peacefully. And as he trailed his fingers over Ludwig’s back and waist, he made another vow. A silent vow. For the first time in his life, Feliciano wished for someone’s death, because someone had destroyed his mate. Someone made his mate cry, and tremble, and afraid.

Feliciano Beilschmidt vowed to kill the King of Avalon.

…

Morning brought sunshine and singing birds as Ludwig and Feliciano emerged from the inn a bit later than originally planned. They gazed at the pink sky as a mild breeze danced around them. It was a beautiful morning.

Feliciano looked to Ludwig, who was staring at the branches swaying in the wind with a new light shining in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Ludwig’s eyes met his, and Feliciano’s heart skipped a beat. His mate. His best friend. His entire world. “Better than I have in the past nine years.” He reached his hand out and held Feliciano’s. They shared a smile, and then a kiss. Feliciano knew what Ludwig meant; he felt like he could take on the entirety of Avalon with this new energy thrumming in his veins.

“Now,” Ludwig said as they parted. “Let’s go find our pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually don't ship Ludwig and Arthur together, but there is a specific reason as to why this happened. Later on, it will become clear why they were "together", I can't say much right now. The next chapter will be significantly shorter than the others, so the wait won't be as long!
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> -_Berserkirs_: Warriors of the Viking Era who, allegedly, fought in a "trance-like state". This word is where the term "berserk" comes from. It's an Old Norse word in origin. Whether or not people like this really existed is still in debate. 
> 
> -Fae Folk: I didn't make up the dancing thing in this chapter. In British Isle folklore, Faeries are malicious creatures. They are beautiful, but mischievous. Rings of mushrooms, bells chiming outside your window, and forests that "stare at you" are all supposed signs of the Fae, and you should definitely run like hell if you see one. Dancing with them is said to make humans go mad. If you strike a deal with them, you must be extremely specific or they will trick you. There is a branch of Wicca that actually works with Faeries, and while I'm not as knowledgeable on this subject, I think branches of druidry also work with them.


	16. Strong Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said this was going to be a shorter chapter? I lied.

“It’s gone! Gilbert, wake up! It’s _gone_!”

The pleasant dream Gilbert was in the midst of disappeared, the frantic shout having cut through the sweet scent of maple and calloused touch his mind had concocted. At first, he was irritated, but then his mind registered the shouting was coming from Elias, and the irritation was replaced by dread. He scrambled into a sitting position only to slam his head against the top of the fallen tree they had crawled under the night before in order to escape the storm.

“Shit,” he grumbled, rubbing the soon-to-be bruise, before darting out from under the tree, his boots sliding against the slick fallen leaves and pine needles. “Elias, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Matthew was already awake, standing beside Kuma as he leant against his staff with concerned eyes. In front of him, Elias was pacing and looking from side-to-side in desperation. The black ribbon Feliciano used to cover his ears was around his neck, the boy having refused to let go of it after they grabbed their supplies the night before last. The early morning air was filled with Elias’s fear scent, and it caused the hair along Gilbert’s arms to rise. He hustled over to his nephew, the sweet dream completely out of his mind as he placed his hands on Elias’s boney shoulders.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” Gilbert exclaimed as gently as he could. He scanned the boy for any sort of injuries, but other than the dirt streaked across his cheeks and the small tear in his black tunic, he appeared to be fine. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong, okay?”

Instead of taking a deep breath, Elias wrenched himself from Gilbert’s grasp and pointed north, stabbing at the air as if it were an enemy. “My- my mom’s scent! It’s gone, the rain washed it away! I can’t smell anything, not him, or my- my father, or the soldiers; nothing! It’s all gone, Gilbert.” Elias’s voice grew thick, and he ducked his head, his long hair hiding his face. “I lost it.”

Gilbert sneaked a glance at Matthew, but the beta only shrugged helplessly. Of course, a beta couldn’t detect the scents of others like an alpha or omega could. Kuma gave a small sniff of the air before snorting. Gilbert lifted his own head and took a big sniff, but Elias was right. Ludwig’s and Feliciano’s scents were gone. He worried this might happen. With a small sigh, he lowered himself on bent knees so he was eyelevel with Elias.

“Hey, no crying. Beilschmidt’s don’t cry, got it?” Elias gave a small sniffle before nodding pathetically. Gilbert resisted the urge to sigh or growl, not at Elias but at himself. He was gods damn frustrated and angry, at Avalon, at the gods, and at himself, for allowing his family to be taken again and because he had no bloody clue how to comfort a child, especially in this kind of situation where even the adult feels lost or afraid. But Elias couldn’t know that.

So Gilbert tried to think back to when Elias snuck out and followed them throughout the night, and begged Feliciano to come back. Feliciano had held him and stroked his hair while murmuring gentle words in his ear. Soft, gentle, nurturing, that’s what Feliciano had been, and it calmed Elias down. Gilbert could do it too. He could at least try.

He reached up and brushed some of Elias’s golden hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears. “We lost their scent, not much we can do about that,” he murmured, or at least tried to. It came out as more of a gruff grumble. “But crying won’t find them, and neither will sitting here and wishing they would come back. If you were the one with the soldiers, your mother would rip this forest apart in order to find you, even if your scent disappeared. He wouldn’t give up, he wouldn’t even shed a tear, and let me tell you, your mother cries an awful lot so that’s really saying something.”

Elias’s wobbly lips lifted in a small smile. Gilbert grinned softly and used the cuff of his leather jacket to brush the dirt from Elias’s cheeks. “My point is he would do something about it, and so would your father. Packs don’t give up on one another, they will go to the ends of the earth to reunite. We can’t afford to sit here and weep, we need to find them.”

Elias blinked his ice blue eyes, and Gilbert was hit with a sense of fondness. They were the same shade as Ludwig’s, as Gilbert’s father’s. “Is that what we are?” he asked softly. “A pack?”

Gilbert’s grin softened. “Let’s see… we all look out for each other, we eat together, and we sleep by the same fire. I’d say the five of us are definitely a pack, and packs never give up on each other. The trail may be lost, but we’re still going to look for them, and we won’t stop until they’re found.”

There was a moment of pause as Elias took in the words with widening eyes, but then he nodded. “Okay! I-I’ll keep trying my best to find them!”

Gilbert grinned and ruffled the top of his head. “That’s the spirit, kid. Now go and grab some of the supplies; just like yesterday, we need to carry as much as we can.”

Elias saluted and darted away, thankfully in much higher spirits than earlier. As Gilbert stood back up, he silently wished he could be as optimistic. They were going to find Ludwig and Feliciano, he would make sure of it, but their scent was gone. Things would be trickier. For the entirety of yesterday, they followed the trail left by the soldiers, but when the storm broke around midnight, Gilbert ordered them to stop. He didn’t want to, but not only could they barely see through the pouring rain, they had all been exhausted. They found poor shelter, but were able to make do with it. It was better than nothing after all.

“That was impressive,” Matthew said quietly. “You’ve a way with children.”

Trying to ignore the way Matthew’s voice made his stomach warm, Gilbert turned on his heel to face the other, smiling coyly all the while. “Must be because I’m a child at heart.”

Matthew snorted, and Gilbert thought that was that. He walked over to their shelter and pulled their weapons out from under it. They had more than he initially realized: his hunting daggers, the bow he gave to Matthew, his crossbow, the axe gifted to him by the Green Knight, Ludwig’s huge Zweihander, and Feliciano’s bow and quiver. Then there were their satchels and rucksacks. It was almost too much to carry between the three of them, though it was more like two since Elias could only carry so much. The boy was currently strapping his mother’s bow and quiver to his back with the rucksack at his feet.

Gilbert got to work putting his belt back on and sheathing his hunting daggers into them. As he pulled Ludwig’s stupidly heavy scabbard and sword over his head to rest across his chest and back, Matthew and Kuma walked over to him. Matthew picked up his and Gilbert’s satchels with the base of his staff to keep from kneeling, and took them by their handles when they were closer to his hand.

Since they were so close to one another, Gilbert took a delicate sniff of the air and shivered from the naturally sweet scent Matthew had no idea was coming from him. Maples and tree sap mixed with something that was naturally earthy. It was beginning to haunt his dreams.

“Hey,” Matthew murmured, making Gilbert jump and silently panic he had been caught acting like a total creep. “When you were talking to Elias, you said the five of us were a pack.” His words trailed off and were followed by a sharp inhale. “Did you… did you mean that? To include me, I mean.”

Gilbert tightened the scabbard as best he could, but even then it was still loose. His brother was just too big. Giving up, he reached for the axe next and began strapping that to his back. “Yeah, I did.” He glanced at Matthew from the corner of his eye and was met with the other’s shocked face. He grinned softly. “It’s because of you we’re all together. Of course you’re a part of our pack, Birdie. We wouldn’t exclude you, besides Feli adores you and I think Elias does too.” He smiled, exposing his fangs. “And don’t worry about Ludwig. He can be kind of hard to read, but I’m sure he likes you!”

But Matthew didn’t look convinced. He picked up his bow with his staff and slid it along his shoulders with distant eyes, and, in the softest voice Gilbert as yet to hear from him, he said, “I think you will soon realize I don’t deserve to be a part of your pack, Gil.”

An uneasy shiver ran down Gilbert’s spine. The words were strange, and they didn’t make sense to him, but Matthew looked completely serious. Almost sad, almost longing. That was unacceptable. Gilbert looked away and picked up the quiver of arrows, and handed it to Matthew. “You know, I bet Ludwig already thinks you’re a part of this pack.”

Matthew snorted. “Sure.”

“No, I’m serious.” Gilbert picked himself up from his knees and bumped his elbow against Matthew’s, smiling all the while. He may find words difficult, but they came naturally to him when he spoke with this strange beta. “’Cause he knows you’re with me.”

This time Matthew’s eyes widened, and his mouth even fell open. Gilbert just grinned as he leant down to pick up his crossbow. Not as a couple, obviously, but as a pair. A friendship. He had a funny feeling that’s why Ludwig would consider Matthew a part of their pack. He didn’t give Matthew the chance to reply, he only stepped closer and held out his hand for the staff.

“Here, I’ll hold that while you climb on Kuma.”

As if waking from a dream, Matthew slowly blinked and nodded. Gilbert held the warm staff as Kuma pressed his belly to the ground and allowed Matthew to climb on top of him. Once he was properly situated, the staff was put back in his hands as their satchels dangled from his arms. Gilbert nodded in satisfaction, and started over to Elias.

“Alright,” Gilbert announced, placing his free hand to his hip. “We lost the trail, but we need to keep going north since we believe their final destination to be Camelot. Sound good?”

Elias nodded enthusiastically while Matthew gave the slightest incline of his head. Then with Gilbert and Elias in the lead, they took off through the Wye Forest again, the cold morning breeze kissing their red tinted faces and cracked lips. Gilbert shivered, but he tried brushing off the sudden chills to keep Matthew from worrying. The night before last- or the very early morning since it had been after midnight- when they went back to their camp to gather their supplies, Matthew fixed up Gilbert’s small wound from the daemon.

It hadn’t been too deep, thankfully, and after some alcohol and a slather of herbs rubbed against it, he was deemed fine. Unfortunately, his shirt was ripped wide open, and since his jacket was missing a few buttons, it was a bit harder for him to keep warm. But he wasn’t going to complain. During his time in the mountains for those nine years, he became used to the cold. Besides, if Elias wasn’t going to complain about the temperature, then he sure as hell wasn’t. He had to give the kid some credit- sure, he was a bit problematic and seemed to have a simmering temper beneath that cold exterior, but he was tough. He must be hungry and cold and tired, but he’d yet to say anything about it.

Gilbert smiled wryly at his nephew. “We’ll find your parents, kid. Don’t worry.”

Elias met his stare and grinned, showing a mouthful of fangs. “I know.”

They continued on in relative silence, just like yesterday. There was probably plenty to talk about, like the prophecy, or King Arthur, or theories for what those daemons were, but no one said a word about any of it. Gilbert didn’t necessarily mind the silence, but he noticed Matthew was quieter than usual. Like yesterday. Something was clearly bothering him. Gilbert silently reminded himself to talk to Matthew later tonight whether Ludwig and Feliciano were with them or not.

About thirty minutes later, the path in front of them grew noticeably brighter. Elias perked up and made a dash for it, but Gilbert lurched forward and grabbed his arm before he could go anywhere. “No running off!” Elias looked like he wanted to argue, but Gilbert continued before he could. “See how the trees are thinning? And see how much brighter everything is? That means the forest is ending, which _means_ you’ll be out in the open. We need to be careful.”

Elias huffed, but nodded. Gilbert let him go and took the lead, slipping through the trees until he was standing at the very edge. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the meadow before him. It was basically a straight shot from where they stood to the other half of the Wye Forest, they just needed to walk across this shining green sea. There were a few trees scattered along the valley, along with sloping mounds of earth, but it was relatively short and flat. There was a faint mist in the air, hanging over the lower parts of the ground, and above them, the sky was a grayish-pink as the sun continued its climb over the mountains and treetops in the distance. A few birds chirped around them, singing their wintertime songs. Gilbert felt himself relax.

“I think it’s safe.”

“Wait,” Elias said, taking one step in front of Gilbert. “What’s that?”

Gilbert followed the direction of Elias’s finger, and found what the boy was talking about. Nestled between two trees in the distance was a huge brown box on top of wheels and- gods, that wasn’t a box. It was a wagon. And from the two red banners attached to the sides of the front, it was obvious it was one of Avalon’s, which meant…

“That might be the wagon Ludwig and Feli were inside!” Gilbert exclaimed. “We need to check it out, they may still be inside.”

Elias jumped on the soles of his feet, his lips pulled into a hopeful smile, and almost tore across the valley with Gilbert hard on his heels but Matthew shouted, “Wait a minute!” They halted and turned to look at him where he was still perched on Kuma’s shoulders. His eyes were narrowed as he looked over the meadow. “Think. The wagon we saw was being led by two horses, and it was surrounded by soldiers on horseback. There aren’t any soldiers around, or horses. Either this isn’t the wagon they were in, or something’s amiss.”

Gilbert growled in frustration but he knew Matthew was right. In fact, he may have growled because he knew Matthew was right. Always the practical one. He turned back to the meadow and took in a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll be careful.”

With Gilbert in the lead, the three walked across the misty valley, drawing closer to the slumped over wagon. He glanced from side-to-side occasionally, checking for any signs of soldiers or daemons, but there was nothing. And the birds continued chirping, there wasn’t any kind of eerie stillness, nor was there any sort of putrid scent. Everything was normal. Gilbert tried not to get his hopes up.

When they made it to the wagon, Gilbert and Elias sniffed the air. “Their scent is here!” Elias exclaimed a bit too loudly. “It’s stronger than before too!”

Gilbert silenced him with a quick, “hush!” just in case there was something lurking around. They paused. If Feliciano and Ludwig were still around, they would have responded to their son’s voice, unless they were… Gilbert gritted his teeth and pushed the invasive thoughts from his mind. He started to walk around the wagon, looking for any sort of struggle, but there was none. He paused when he made it to the back.

“Hey, Birdie,” he called softly. “Come here.” Kuma and Elias appeared a moment later with Elias and Matthew staring at him curiously. He pointed to the small opening at the top of the door, and that was all he needed to do. Matthew ushered Kuma closer until he was standing right beside the wagon’s back. Gilbert tried not to shiver; Matthew’s head was leveled with the window at the door thanks to Kuma’s insane height.

He leant his head closer to the door, and Gilbert held his breath. What if Ludwig and Feliciano were still inside? They might be bleeding, or bruised, or injured- or what if _Ludwig_ was the only one inside? Gilbert nearly gagged at what that might mean. His thoughts were cut off by a loud thump and snarl from within the wagon, followed by Matthew shouting in surprise and falling backwards, his legs still straddling Kuma’s sides.

Gilbert threw his crossbow down and scrambled closer to Kuma, smacking his forehead against the back of Matthew’s head as struggled to catch his upper body. He slipped his arms beneath Matthew’s armpits and laced his fingers together atop his chest, allowing Matthew to keep himself suspended between himself and Kuma.

“What the hell was that?” Gilbert demanded, looking from Matthew to the small opening.

“There are- are men inside!” Matthew exclaimed breathlessly. Gilbert could feel his heart pounding beneath his hands, and though this position wasn’t exactly bad by his standards, it was probably uncomfortable for Matthew. He grunted as helped Matthew right himself once again on Kuma’s back while he continued speaking quickly. “One of them kicked the door!”

Before Gilbert could make any sort of guesses as to why there were men inside an Avalonian wagon, a snarl erupted from behind the door. “_I’ll kill that Faerie slut_.”

Gilbert pulled Elias away from the door just in case the bastard inside was able to get out, but those words interested him. He slipped back over to the door, faltering when he noticed there was nothing holding the lock. Of course the door could be locked, but he didn’t want to take any chances, not with the slurs the bastard inside was spitting. He quickly unsheathed one of his hunting daggers and slid the skinny hilt through the lock, hopefully holding it in place.

“A Faerie, huh,” Gilbert said, tapping his knuckle against the door. “You’re trying to tell me you saw a Faerie?”

There was a pause, then an angry snarl. “Considering you have the same heathenish accent as that mangy mutt, I’m assuming you’re a shapeshifter too.”

Gilbert grinned at Matthew, but the beta wore an expression of bewilderment. He was too excited to be shocked or cowed. “Maybe I am, but that’s not important right now! Where are they? What’d you do with my family?”

“_Family_,” the male, alpha by his scent, spat. There was a grunt followed quickly by a loud thump, as if the guy threw himself at the door. The dagger wriggled, but stayed in place. It wouldn’t hold for very long. “If you want to consider that devil of an omega as a member of your family, so be it. Your kind belongs together.”

His grin vanished. If someone wanted to sneer at him or his brother, fine. He knew Ludwig could take care of himself, but Feliciano was a different story. If this guy laid so much as a finger on Feliciano, he was going to rip his fucking throat out. He opened his mouth, ready to demand what this bastard had done to them, when Elias slipped in front of him and slammed his foot against the door, making the entire thing rattle. The man behind the door howled in pain, followed by a, “Gods, my fucking head.”

Elias glared at the door, his eyes narrowed with a small growl rumbling in his throat. “My mom’s not a devil.”

Gilbert shouldn’t have been surprised as he was. Elias was clearly a fighter, he should have figured that out in the Orlon Forest. He smiled and patted the top of the boy’s head, silently praising him. Then he knocked on the door again. “Listen up, we’ll let you go if you tell us where Ludwig and Feliciano are. I know they were here, I can detect their scents!”

“Gil…” Matthew whispered in warning.

The alpha hissed. “Even if I did know where they were, I wouldn’t tell you. That mangy mutt knocked me out and I woke up in here with the rest of my soldiers! I haven’t the slightest clue where those two went.”

It was a likely story, most likely the truth, and Gilbert was kind of impressed. He wondered how Ludwig and Feliciano were able to pull something like that off, especially since Ludwig would make sure Feliciano was kept safe. “Fine, you’ve told us enough. Thanks for your time!”

He waved his arm, gesturing for Kuma and Elias to follow him. Elias glared at the wagon one more time before scampering away, Kuma moving at a slower pace. The man shouted, “You can’t just leave us here! I’m a captain of Avalon’s army, I’ll drag you back in _chains_-”

“Yeah, yeah, keep on blabbering,” Gilbert called over his shoulder. “Thanks for the tip though, you’ve been quite cooperative!”

They didn’t stop walking until they made it to the tree line of the northern half of the Wye Forest, and by the time they made it, the shouts from the apparent captain had disappeared. Gilbert narrowed his eyes as he looked past the trees and took in the brightening forest. Ludwig and Feliciano had to be in there, and they must have rested for the night when the storm hit… But where were they now?

“Gilbert, you reckless idiot!” Matthew exclaimed, leaning down so his face was a bit closer to his own. He just grinned as Matthew’s face grew red. “That could’ve ended horribly!”

“Well, did you have a better idea?”

His grin widened when Matthew straightened and looked away. “No, I didn’t,” he murmured softly. “I don’t know what else we could’ve done, but now they know we’re here too. We may be in some sort of danger.”

Sure, he could kind of understand where Matthew was coming from, but at the same time… “We’ve been in danger ever since those Shadow Soldiers burned my home in the mountains.” He stretched his arms over his head, mindful of the heavy crossbow in his hand. “We needed to get at least some answers from those guys, and now we know Feli and Ludwig are okay, and that they’ve escaped!”

“But what now?” Elias asked, peering into the forest as his nose twitched. “Their scent isn’t as strong as it was by the wagon, I don’t even think I can follow it.”

“It was probably so strong by the wagon because they had been there for a while,” Gilbert mused, dropping his arms. He placed a hand across his jaw as he contemplated what they could do. First, they needed to put some distance between themselves and the wagon filled with soldiers- that’s probably why Feliciano and Ludwig went north instead of turning around and going south. Of course it would be difficult for the soldiers to catch up to them without a horse… Horse. Gilbert narrowed his eyes, his mind beginning to work its humble magic.

Horses… people ride horses… In Versteckt, or on their way back to Versteckt from big markets in far off cities, Feliciano would beg Ludwig to shift into a wolf so he could ride him, and Gilbert would joke his brother was no more than a horse… _Wolves_. Oh, wow. The answer was so simple!

“Elias.” Elias walked closer to him, tilting his head to the side as he waited. “Have you ever communicated with anyone as a wolf?”

The boy paused, his face scrunching in thought. “Not really. I mean, there weren’t any other shapeshifters in the Orlon Forest, so… No.”

Gilbert grinned. “You wanna try it now?”

His suggestion was met by a brief silence shattered by Matthew’s surprised tone. “You’re going to have Elias try to get Feli’s attention by, what? Howling?”

“Not Feli’s attention,” Gilbert said, turning his gaze to Matthew. “Ludwig’s.” His eyes dropped to Elias when he heard the boy exhale in what was, hopefully, understanding. He continued speaking anyway. “You see, shapeshifters are animals; in their animal forms, they can do everything an actual animal can. A black bear shifter can climb a tree, a bird shifter can fly, and a wolf shifter can howl.”

“Howl?” Elias echoed with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. He looked so much like Ludwig right now Gilbert almost laughed. “What good would that do?”

But there was nothing funny about this, about a child who basically knew next to nothing about his own culture except for the few things his mother had told him. It may have helped, but Feliciano wasn’t a shapeshifter. He could only teach Elias the little of what he knew. Hopefully that could change.

“Wolves communicate with one another by howling,” Gilbert explained, remembering with ease the lectures his own father gave long ago. “Especially when they’re far away from one another. They can warn each other about danger, or say the whereabouts of prey, or to tell the other where they are. There are different kinds of howls, but for now just try and howl! Any one would do. If Ludwig is somewhere in this forest, he’ll hear you and he’ll respond with one of his own.”

Matthew made a small, “ohh,” noise and Gilbert tried to bury his pride at impressing the beta with his genius. Elias didn’t seemed convinced. He lowered his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his maroon undershirt. “But he’s never heard my howl before, he hasn’t even seen me in my wolf form. How will he know it’s me?”

Elias sounded so uncertain and sad, Gilbert wondered what the extent of his torment was in the Orlon Forest, how deep his possible hatred for shapeshifters ran. He patted the top of Elias’s head, and waited for those blue eyes too look up.

“There are some things parents just know,” he said as softly as he could. “Remember a few days ago when Ludwig had that collar around his neck, and it was making him fight us?” Elias nodded. “And you ran in front of Matthew and Feli, and he froze? Now, I have no way of knowing for certain, but I bet he knew who you were, there was some part of his instincts that just _knew_ you were his son. If he knew then, of course he’ll know now. Give it a try, kid, and we’ll go from there.”

Elias’s eyebrows knotted together as Gilbert drew his hand away, and then he gave a small nod. “I’ll try.” He handed Gilbert the bow, quiver, and rucksack, and then loosened the black ribbon around his neck so it would accommodate his larger wolf neck. He closed his eyes, and a moment later his body began to glow until a black dire wolf pup was standing in his place, as large as a medium sized dog.

Elias blinked at Gilbert, uncertainty in his gaze. Gilbert offered him a thumbs up as Matthew murmured, “You can do it, Elias.”

The small dire wolf looked to the trees and shuffled his paws. Gilbert wondered if he should guide Elias through it, but this was something instinct could guide. So he stepped beside Kuma and simply watched. Matthew took the rucksack from him, prompting Gilbert to look at him. His heart skipped a beat as he took in that gentle smile directed _his_ way as if _he_ had done something. A warm feeling wrapped itself around Gilbert, and he had to look away because his face was in danger of becoming red.

A small, almost uncertain, howl brought Gilbert’s attention back to Elias. That one was too quiet for anyone to hear, even someone with superior ears. Gilbert dropped the bows in his hand and walked back to Elias’s side, smiling down at his nephew. Elias glanced back up, his gaze uncertain once more. “Come on, let’s do it together.”

Without waiting for any kind of nonverbal reply from Elias, Gilbert tipped his head back, cupped his hands around his mouth, and howled. Of course, his “howl” was just a human trying to replicate a wolf’s, there wasn’t a trace of wolf language in his vocals, but it should make Elias a little more comfortable. His heart warmed when he recalled doing this with Ludwig when they were younger. His father and brother howled in their wolf forms while he and his stepmother howled with them in human skins. He ached for a family, a close pack, like that again.

A moment later, Elias’s scratchy howl joined his. It was louder this time, and filled with more certainty. Gilbert smiled as they continued, letting their howls bounce through the forest in front of them. He lowered his hands and waved a hand in front of Elias’s face, motioning for him to stop. They needed to wait for a reply. Elias’s ears twitched, and Gilbert leant forward, resting a hand against the nearest tree.

Birds were chirping, and a few bugs were creating their symphonies; the winter wind rustled the tops of the bare oak trees, and there were little feet crunching the fallen leaves… But no wolf. Gilbert narrowed his eyes. Ludwig and Feliciano had to be here. “Let’s try again.”

They were going to find their pack, no matter what. Gilbert cupped his mouth again and howled, followed by Elias’s louder and much more authentic howl. It sent chills down Gilbert’s spine. There was something so haunting about a wolf’s howl, and it made his blood sing, as if his wolven instincts were trying to say, _I’m a wolf too! Let me join in_!

Gilbert’s own noise faltered when he heard an additional voice behind him. He whirled his head around to find Matthew with his own head thrown back, howling to the sky with a faint blush across his face. His eyes were closed, but he looked… like something. The wind brushed through his golden hair, allowing the curls to sway from side-to-side. His lips were pursed and his eyes were squeezed shut behind his dorky, large glasses. And Gilbert realized that “something” was beauty; Matthew looked beautiful right now. He looked beautiful every day.

Their chorus of howls died down again, giving them the time to listen for a reply. Gilbert looked away from Matthew and turned his attention back to the forest; he could muse over Matthew’s beauty when they were together again. For now he needed to concentrate.

The forest swayed with the wind, brushing dead leaves across Gilbert’s boots. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on sounds that were farther away, but there was nothing resembling a wolf’s howl. He tried not to grit his teeth or curse, he didn’t want to give up yet, but Elias’s howl had been loud. It should have been heard.

“One more time,” Gilbert growled. “Let’s try one more time.”

They all leant their heads back and howled as loud as they could, Elias’s drowning out Gilbert’s and Matthew’s. _I’m here_, it seemed to say. _I’m here, where are you_?

And cutting through the forest on the wind, echoing Elias’s, was a stronger howl in the distance. It silenced all of theirs, and they listened to it. It was hypnotic, perhaps eerie to some, but to Gilbert it was familiar, a sound he hadn’t heard for ages. It was one piece of his home, and another part of his pack. He smiled widely and spun on his heel to face Elias and Matthew. Elias’s tail was slowly swinging from side-to-side as his ears twitched, and Matthew was staring at the forest in disbelief.

“That was Ludwig!” Gilbert exclaimed. “He’s somewhere out there!”

Matthew actually laughed before extending a hand in his direction. “Come on then, we need to get going.”

After picking up the discarded bows, he dashed to Kuma’s side and stared at the calloused hand offered to him, the hand he felt in his dream just hours ago. He grinned, grabbed it, and hauled himself behind Matthew. “Don’t stop howling, Elias!” he called. “Let’s go!”

Elias sprang into the forest, followed by Kuma’s thundering paws. It was a bit awkward riding atop the dire bear with only his legs and thighs keeping him upright, but Gilbert was filled with too much exhilaration to really care. The trees flew past them, and the ground sloped up and down as Elias and Kuma raced beside one another, Elias actually keeping up right Kuma’s longer strides. He continued to howl every now and then, and everyone was met with a reply from Ludwig. They were getting closer.

There was no telling how long they ran. Sunlight filtered into the forest, broken by the branches obscuring the sky, and shone more light on the path before them. Leaves crunched beneath Elias’s and Kuma’s paws, and Gilbert and Matthew had to duck on more than one occasion to dodge a few stray branches; Gilbert was thankful it was winter and not summer, or there would be a lot more obstacles in their way. They kept running, and Elias kept howling, until there was a large rise in the earth with a very tiny brook snaking through the base of it. Gilbert expected them to stop, but they didn’t. Elias dashed up the slope, looking more like a fox than a wolf, and Kuma lumbered after him. Gravity caused Matthew to lean against Gilbert’s chest, and Gilbert had to tighten his thighs’ grips around the dire bear’s sides to keep from tumbling off, but he wasn’t necessarily complaining as Matthew’s sweet scent tickled his nose.

When they were back on flat land, Elias howled once more and it was enough. Dashing between the trees was a huge black dire wolf with someone on top of its back, heading right for them. Feliciano and Ludwig, they were here. Kuma drew to a halt, but Elias didn’t stop. Feliciano scrambled from Ludwig’s back, a dangerous action considering Ludwig hadn’t stopped running, and met his son half way, right as Elias shifted back into his human form.

Feliciano gasped as he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Elias, pulling him close to his chest and keeping him locked in a motherly embrace. “Oh, oh, thank the goddess you’re okay. Thank you, thank you.”

Ludwig slowed to a trot until he made it to Feliciano and Elias, where he shifted back into his human form. He joined his mate on the ground, dropping to one knee and regarding his family with a soft smile on his face.

Gilbert loosed a breath, unaware he had even been holding it. He slipped from Kuma’s back and laid his bows on the ground before walking closer to the three. From here it looked like Feliciano and Ludwig were okay. There weren’t any visible marks on their faces, and considering Ludwig had run through the forest and Feliciano had leapt from his back, they were probably fine. He wasn’t going to thank the gods, though; it was thanks to their quick wits they were okay, he was sure of it.

Feliciano broke away and ran his fingers through Elias’s bangs, pushing them back as he continued to look him over. “You look okay, but is that true? Did you run into any soldiers? Or daemons?”

Instead of pushing his hands away, Elias only smiled and shook his head. “I’m fine! I went straight back to Gilbert and Matthew like you said, and then I followed your scent, but the rain washed it away so Gilbert came up with this plan to communicate by howling, and it worked!” He affectionately butted his head against Feliciano’s shoulder, and Feliciano responded by nuzzling and kissing the top of it.

“Good,” he murmured softly. “I’m proud of you, Elias.”

“I am, too.” Ludwig ducked his head when Elias and Feliciano looked at him. He cleared his throat before looking back at Elias. “I know it can be weird to howl as a wolf when you aren’t used to it, but you did it and I could even hear your message perfectly. You did very well, Elias.”

Elias blinked, and then lowered his head, but Gilbert could see the grin on his face. “It was Gilbert’s plan all along,” the boy said with a nonchalant shrug. “I just did as I was told.”

“And it’s a good thing you did.” Feliciano smiled and wrapped his arms back around his son, and pulled him close as he leant into Ludwig’s chest. “I’m still proud of you, _mein kleiner_.”

Gilbert smiled as he watched the sweet scene, the blissful smile on Feliciano’s face and the warm love shining across Ludwig’s. Even Elias seemed more than content to let his mother hold him; Gilbert knew how worried he had been. The boy drew away after a moment, concern in his voice as he said, “Are _you_ okay, Mom? Your scent is really different.”

To the common eye, nothing changed, but Gilbert had the eyes of a sharpshooter and he noticed the slight difference in Feliciano and Ludwig. Feliciano’s smile didn’t fade, but his eyes widened slightly. “I’m fine. The soldiers didn’t hurt me, I promise. My scent’s probably different because I was with your father, and you aren’t used to his scent yet.”

A perfectly normal response that would fool any child, until Ludwig opened his mouth. Unlike Feliciano, his face was red, his smile was gone, and his voice was an octave higher than usual as he exclaimed, “Nothing happened!”

Behind Gilbert, Matthew coughed. Okay, it was time for him to swoop in before his brother ended up hurting himself. He laughed as he walked closer to his family. “Alright, alright, that’s enough mushiness to last for the rest of the month!” Ludwig almost looked relieved as he stood up, turning his back on Feliciano’s ‘I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that’ face. He held out his hand and Gilbert took it. “By the gods, you two had us worried!”

“You did,” Matthew added softly as Kuma lumbered closer. “Were you two taken by Avalon?”

The light in Ludwig’s eyes disappeared as he lowered his chin and dropped his hand. “Yes. They told us we were arrested under the orders of Field Marshal Sallow, the one in charge of military affairs when the King is absent. We were put in a wagon headed for Camelot, but we escaped not too far from here.”

“We saw the wagon,” Elias piped in as Feliciano stood back up and led the boy closer to Ludwig. “There was a guy inside who called himself a captain.”

A different kind of gleam entered Ludwig’s eyes while his upper lip drew back in the beginnings of a snarl, a movement that was incredibly lupine. “Yes,” he growled. “There was a captain among the alphas who arrested us.”

He was the one who called Feliciano a ‘Faerie slut’. Gilbert glanced at Feliciano, expecting to see some kind of fear on his face or detect something similar in his scent, but he was smiling softly. Smiling. Huh, that was strange but it didn’t matter as long as he was okay. “They were the ones who brought the daemons then?” he asked.

Now Feliciano looked scared. “Daemons? As in, more than one?”

Gilbert and Matthew exchanged a grim glance. There had been the one mauled creature in the field outside of the forest they made their camp in, Gilbert had suspected Ludwig took care of that one, but Feliciano’s question confirmed it. “Yeah.” He pulled open his jacket, exposing the long cut along his shirt. “It did this to me.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened as Ludwig growled, “I only saw the one. It was circling over the soldiers before it attacked us.” He let out a long sigh and glared at the ground. “Honestly, I think the daemons brought the soldiers to us. Different daemons have different abilities; the soldiers said these daemons were known as Shadow Walkers which could elude to their ability of walking through shadows as a means of teleportation.”

Matthew gasped, and Gilbert understood why. “That’s what the one who attacked us did! It was there one minute and then gone the next, as if it just vanished in the darkness!”

Gilbert shivered without meaning to. How was it possible for such vile creatures to exist? From the eerie silence that stretched through their group, from Elias’s wide-eyed look around the forest to Feliciano pressing closer to Ludwig, he knew they were all wondering the same thing. “So,” he tentatively started. “Should we assume there are more soldiers looking for us?”

A cold wind rustled the tops of the branches, causing them to moan in, what sounded like, pain. Ludwig’s gaze was icy as he stared in Gilbert’s eyes and said one word. “Yes.”

“Then we can’t just stand around, right?” Feliciano asked shrilly. “Surely other daemons and soldiers may find us if we stay in one place for too long.”

Were they being watched by other daemons right now? Gilbert resisted the urge to look around in case he did see one of those winged monsters peering right down from the branches overhead. Ludwig wrapped an arm around Feliciano’s waist and pulled him closer, his voice softening as he said, “It is unlikely for daemons to be out right now. Low level daemons are weak to sunlight and will explode in flames if they’re out in it. I think the Shadow Walkers were weak, especially if it ran away from Gilbert and Matthew.” He looked up and nodded in their direction. “No offense.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

But Matthew whispered, “No.” They looked to him. His violet eyes were trained on the staff in his hands, his thumb pressing against one of the runes etched into it. “No, it did run. I used my blood to make the staff glow again, like when we fought you, Ludwig. It vanished almost right after the runes started glowing.”

Feliciano gasped, “Because the staff is filled with Faerie magic!”

Their hypothesis of a daemon’s weakness was Faerie magic. Of course! Gilbert had been so startled that night he hadn’t even really processed what Matthew had done, but that must have been why the daemon fled! Ludwig exhaled softly in understanding. “Maybe we can chase away other Shadow Walkers with the staff too.”

“Our own daemon repellent,” Gilbert muttered, glancing wearily at Matthew. He was lost in thought with his eyes still on the runes. What was he thinking about? Gilbert pushed those thoughts away; there were more important things to worry about right now. It seemed like there always were. “So, is Avalon just looking for you, Lutz, or what?”

Ludwig opened his mouth, but closed it slowly with a glance in Feliciano’s direction. Feliciano was fiddling with his hands, a telltale sign that meant he was very worried about something. Dread filled Gilbert’s stomach. Something was wrong. He was just about to demand for them to spit it out when Ludwig finally said, “Let’s not talk about it here. It’s much too important.”

Gilbert frowned. He didn’t like being kept in the dark. “Fine, but you better tell us later.”

“I will, Gilbert, I promise.” Ludwig dipped his head. Quietly, he added, “There is much I need to tell you.” Even though Gilbert hated secrets, even though he wanted his brother to tell him what all of this was about, he didn’t think he was entirely ready to hear the truth.

…

“We need to get going,” Ludwig said after Feliciano finished patching up his injured shoulder. Apparently the daemon he had killed dealt the blow. It looked just a bit deeper than the wound Gilbert had, but Feliciano said it would be okay. Matthew was relieved the brothers managed to get out of their daemon fights relatively unscathed, though he would forever be in Gilbert’s debt as he took the brunt of the attack to keep him safe. “The Wye River isn’t too far from here.”

Gilbert groaned in exaggeration from where he stood at Kuma’s right, petting the bear who “was always one bite away from eating him”. “I’ve just about had it with rivers and lakes during winter.”

Matthew was inclined to agree, especially since their last encounter with a body of water had been less than pleasant. He would never forget the utter devastation of seeing Gilbert’s body floating in the middle of that frozen lake on that gray, snowy day. It still haunted his dreams. “It can’t be any worse than last time,” he tried in reassurance with a small smile Gilbert’s way.

“Last time?” Feliciano echoed as he slipped on the black ribbon Elias handed him. “What happened last time?”

“Ah, nothing too special.” Gilbert unstrapped the black scabbard from his chest, and pulled it over his head. He handed it to Ludwig as he told a shortened version of what happened weeks ago. “Matthew and I were on our way to the Orlon Forest when this Shadow Soldier found us. We split up and the guy ran after me, but I ended up on a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere and fell in.” His smirk made Matthew’s stomach tighten. “But I was still able to shoot him! Got him right in the arm!”

Elias turned to his uncle, eyes stretched wide in amazement. “You shot him while you were running?”

“I shot him while I was on the ice!” Gilbert winked.

“Wow,” Feliciano breathed. “That’s incredible.”

Another instance where he had saved Matthew’s life. He shook his head, finding it hard to keep his eyes on the probably-insane alpha so he looked to Ludwig instead. He was in the midst of strapping his scabbard to himself when he froze and placed a hand on his left arm. His eyes narrowed, and his head tilted to the side, as if he were confused. Then he shook his head and finished adjusting the scabbard.

As always, Matthew’s eyes slid back to Gilbert. His hands were on his hips and he was grinning from ear-to-ear as he spoke to Elias and Feliciano about their perilous journey before they made it to the Orlon Forest. It really seemed like ages ago when the truth was it was only a few weeks prior to today. But during their time together, Gilbert never looked this happy, this _alive_. Matthew wasn’t arrogant enough to take offense, family and friends gave people two different kinds of happiness after all, but he was… confused. Confused and reluctant because Gilbert said he was a part of their pack.

Long ago, packs were more like clans. Everyone lived together and listened to the head alpha who was either the oldest or strongest alpha in the pack. Every pack had a coat of arms too, filled with symbols that were important to their family. Every member of the pack hunted and helped raise the children. Maybe things were like that in other kingdoms, but he knew the idea of packs had been relatively ignored in Avalon and Glaceria, but of course packs were still seen as natural in the world of shapeshifters.

But Matthew didn’t think he belonged in this pack, or any for that matter. He was Philip Jones Pendragon, and a Pendragon didn’t deserve to be in pack filled with people his own family was responsible for destroying. He closed his eyes as a deep tremor ran through him. Gilbert would understand that eventually. Once he learned the truth of Matthew’s identity, he would never consider him a part of his pack again. And Matthew would have no choice but to accept that.

“Birdie?” And there was that ridiculous voice that should be too rough to be considered caring, but he knew when he opened his eyes he would find gentle red eyes on him, silently wondering if he was okay. “Going to sleep already? It’s not even noon!”

He couldn’t hide forever, even if he wanted to. With a reluctant sigh, he opened his eyes and sent Gilbert a tiny smile. “Sorry. I think hunger is to blame for this sudden fatigue.”

Gilbert groaned. “Damn, you’re right. I’m starving! Hey, Lutz! Why don’t you put those wolf skills to use and go find us some food!”

Ludwig and Feliciano walked closer, their hands clasped between them. “I thought you were the gifted hunter,” he growled softly. His voice softened as he turned to Matthew. “And can you hold out for a few more hours? I want to cover a bit more ground, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is,” Matthew said with a small smile as Gilbert groaned louder.

Ludwig nodded. “Great.” He inclined his head to the path ahead of them where the ground sloped upward. “If we continue north, we’ll make it to the Wye River in about two hours, I think. I haven’t been there in a few years, but if I remember correctly there’s only one bridge and it’s much farther east by one of the towns outside the forest. Getting to the bridge would take an extra two days.”

Two whole days just to get to the bridge. “Can we cross the river without it?” he asked tentatively. “I’m sure you know this, but Avalon is going to start a war with Norge and we need to find the Once and Future King before then, or else Norge will be destroyed. We can’t have any more delays.”

“I know about the war,” Ludwig replied grimly. “And even though I still think what you’re doing is nothing more than a suicide mission, it’s best to do it now while King Alexander is out of the palace, so I agree. No more delays. Now, as far as crossing the river ourselves…” His eyebrows knitted together as his voice trailed off. Then he turned on his heel. “Come on, we can talk while we walk.”

Gilbert murmured in agreement as Ludwig took up the lead with Feliciano at his side. Kuma waited for Elias to go on ahead before following while Gilbert brought up the rear. Overhead, the late morning sunlight fell past the branches and dappled the damp ground. The small patches of sunlight warmed Matthew’s chilled skin, but that feeling didn’t last for long as Ludwig continued to speak.

“It is possible to swim across, but it won’t be easy. There are parts of it with rough currents, and if we end up swimming through them we won’t be able to stop for any sort of breaks, and I think it goes without saying that the water will be freezing.” Ludwig stopped talking for a moment, then added, “Actually, I’m not entirely sure if it is possible to swim across.”

Oh, no. Matthew slid his hand along Kuma’s back, feeling the mighty muscles move beneath his thick fur. “White dire bears belong in Glaceria; they can even swim in the North Sea, the coldest body of water around Esmya. I don’t think this will be a problem for Kuma, and he’s strong enough to carry one of us across.”

“At a time?” Feliciano asked with a backward glance. “Won’t he get tired?”

“We may have to take breaks,” Matthew replied honestly. “But he can do it. He even saved Gilbert after he fell into that frozen lake.”

“Hmm.” Ludwig sounded like he was in deep thought. “Well, we can try it. I can help him in my dire wolf form, too. Kuma can take you, Matthew, across first and I’ll take Elias. We may have to rest when we make it to the other side, which means…”

From the back of the group, Gilbert called, “Feli and I will be fine! We’ll have some weapons handy in case things get ugly!”

Matthew could tell Ludwig didn’t like the idea very much, and he couldn’t say he disagreed. They could run into a group of soldiers who might arrest them, and then they would be back where they were before with Ludwig and Feliciano! The thought made his stomach roll.

“That’s our only option,” Ludwig finally said with a resigned growl. “Unless we want to waste the time by going to the bridge.”

“We don’t have the time to waste,” Matthew said softly.

“Which leaves us with one option,” said Feliciano. “Don’t worry, Ludwig! We’ll be fine.”

Ludwig still didn’t look too happy, but he grunted in agreement. “So that’s the plan.” He pointed further ahead where the ground sloped upward again. “The rest of the Wye Forest is filled with inclines and raised land, which means when we make it to the river we may have to climb down from a high rise lest we want to risk jumping from an extreme height.”

Matthew was impressed with Ludwig’s intensive knowledge, and was also put at ease by the command in his voice. He wondered if Ludwig was considered the high alpha of this pack. He wasn’t entirely sure how much Gilbert would feel about that, or if there even were positions of high alphahood in packs anymore. Honestly, he didn’t know much about packs in the present day, though he supposed his mother’s coven was sort of like a pack. It was filled with omegas, one beta, and their familiars. Did that qualify as a pack?

“I think we should eat before we swim across!” Feliciano piped in. “We’ll have more energy that way! Besides, if we hunt by the river, it will be much easier to find food.”

“I’m in favor of that plan!” Gilbert said followed by Elias calling out his agreements. Matthew’s stomach rumbled, and he blushed as Elias and Feliciano laughed.

Ludwig nodded. “It’s settled then. We’ll eat first and then make our way across the river.”

Matthew regarded Ludwig once his blush died down, and watched the alpha stride confidently over the forest floor. His eyes immediately fell on the band around his neck, pale enough for it to be made out against his already fair skin. A chill traveled down Matthew’s spine as he felt a rush of something dark and cold pulse from his back, and he knew what caused it without looking. The collar was still in his satchel, waiting to be… No, they weren’t waiting to do anything with it. They were only keeping it because there was nowhere else to put it. He still had so many questions for Ludwig- what sort of daemon was inside the collar? Did it have a physical form or was it more of a spirit? What other kinds of daemons did the King of Avalon have control over?- but he knew better than to ask them outright. He didn’t want to have a repeat of Gilbert, of prying too hard and hurting the other in the process.

Then he remembered he was actively hurting Gilbert, and Feliciano, by keeping his birth a secret. Ludwig said there were things he needed to tell Gilbert, was Matthew’s own secret one of them? No, Ludwig wouldn’t do that. He was clearly an honorable alpha, and he already said it wasn’t his place to tell. Still, Matthew wondered what he wanted to talk about.

Ludwig didn’t give it away as they continued to walk through the forest. The sun climbed higher in the sky until it was directly overhead, shining down through the branches and sprinkling them with tiny bouts of warmth. Their group was relatively silent much to Matthew’s dismay. The silence allowed his mind to explode with one million different things, either regarding King Arthur, or the Legatus, or the dragon slumbering in the Highlands, or, worst of all, Gilbert. He was going to fall into a pit of insanity if he didn’t occupy himself with something! He was just about to take the _Fabula_ from his satchel when Kuma stopped walking.

“Kuma?” Matthew ran his fingers across his familiar’s side as he leant down in an attempt to find his gaze. “What is it?”

Gilbert walked around Kuma’s right side. “Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Matthew replied honestly. “Kuma, what-” He broke off as Kuma raised his head and sniffed the air, and then, to Matthew’s horror, growled. “Something’s wrong.”

Ludwig had stopped to watch Kuma, and now he sniffed the air. Feliciano tilted his head to the side, no doubt listening for anything suspicious, as he took Elias’s shoulders in a gentle hold. The birds were still chirping, meaning there was nothing otherworldly in the forest, but that didn’t mean they were safe from danger. The wind changed direction and buffeted against their faces, giving way to all sorts of new scents. Ludwig’s eyes narrowed right before they widened, panic shining deep within them, but right as he opened his mouth an arrow shot through the forest and embedded itself in his arm.

Feliciano screamed, and Gilbert dashed forward, loading his crossbow with an arrow and aiming it in the direction the other arrow came from, but there was no one there, just the base of a large slope. No, it hadn’t come from directly beside them, it had come from above. Matthew slowly looked up and took in what was lined against the top of the slope. Seven horses with riders on top with longbows in their gloved grip. They were dressed in light armor, with pieces covering their forearms, shins, and waist while the rest of their body was clothed by red cloth. Their heads were concealed by oddly shaped helmets that only had slits for their eyes. Emerging from the tops of their helmets were feathers, six of which were red while the rider in the center had a black one. The two riders at the separate ends had a flag protruding from their horses’ saddles- red with a roaring yellow lion on its hind legs in the center. Avalonian soldiers. They couldn’t be the ones from the wagon since these people were on horseback, and from the slighter build of at least three of them, some were women and there hadn’t been any women in the wagon when he looked. They had been found.

“Get away from the slope!” Ludwig shouted as he pushed Feliciano and Elias back with his eyes still on the soldiers. “Hide behind the trees!”

Feliciano and Elias tore away as the soldiers knocked arrows into their bows, and aimed downward. Kuma turned and headed for Feliciano, but Matthew looked back. Gilbert still had his crossbow aimed for the soldiers. “Gil, run!” he screamed.

Too late. He released the arrow right as the soldiers did, but he was at a massive disadvantage considering their positions. There was no telling where it landed, Matthew was too busy staring at the arrows heading for Gilbert. He almost screamed again, picturing all seven of them sticking out from Gilbert’s body, when Ludwig darted forward, grabbed Gilbert by the back of the neck, and hauled him back. Then they were all racing after Feliciano and Elias.

“The ditch!” Ludwig called. “Head for the ditch!”

It looked like there was a dip in the earth ahead of them, a place they could perhaps hide in order to regroup and get their bearings straight. Elias made it to the end of their path and hesitated, but Feliciano urged him on, and a moment later they were gone. Matthew braced himself as Kuma jumped next, and landed on the soft ground, followed a moment later by Gilbert and Ludwig.

The dip was too low to see over the side they had come from, but it would have to do. Matthew pressed his upper body across Kuma’s back instead of dismounting, as it would take far too long for him to get back on with the current state of his knee and that was precocious time they no longer had. He gripped his staff in one hand, wincing as it pressed uncomfortably against his side. Beside Kuma, Feliciano had his back pressed against the slope with Elias clinging to his front. His widened amber eyes were on Ludwig’s wounded arm.

“Ludwig-”

“I’m fine,” the alpha growled as he ripped the arrow from his arm, making both Matthew and Feliciano flinch. “Those aren’t regular soldiers; they’re a part of Avalon’s archer cavalry. It’s safe to assume they’re all sharpshooters.”

Eight sharpshooters on horseback. Matthew strained to listen for the sound of pounding hooves, but he couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his heart. Gilbert snarled. “We can take them!”

At once, the atmosphere around them changed. Matthew almost flinched as Ludwig whirled around to face his brother, the ice in his gaze melting to blazing hot fire. “Did you hear what I said? They’re elite sharpshooters, and we have to assume they’re out for our arrest! It would be better if we run.”

“Run?” Gilbert hissed. “Like cowards? We’re better than that!”

The noise rumbling inside Ludwig’s throat was more animalistic than any sound Matthew has ever heard from the man. Even Feliciano flinched. The alpha stalked closer to Gilbert until he was right in front of him, glaring down at him with the anger of an entire army. “If we fight, they may catch us, and before you say they won’t, they will. Because they will use my son and my mate to keep me from fighting, and they will use your witch to stop you. That’s how Feliciano and I were arrested- those damn pigs _took_ him, and I would rather run like a fucking coward than put my mate through that kind of fear again. Now shut up and listen to me; that’s an order from your _General_.”

Matthew covered his mouth to hold back his gasp. Ludwig’s face slackened as his complexion turned a shade paler than usual. He took a slow, cautious step back as if he were unsteady, his eyes never leaving Gilbert. There was a low rumbling from somewhere in the forest, and it sounded angry. It took a moment for Matthew to realize it was coming from Gilbert. Dear gods, was he going to attack his own brother?

“Gil, don’t!” Matthew reached for the back of his shoulder, needing to reach him before he did something without thinking.

“Stop!” Feliciano shot forward between the two alphas with his arms stretched out, stopping the two from arguing further. He stood in front of Ludwig with his widened gaze on Gilbert while Elias peered around his father, looking impossibly small. “Gilbert, it was a slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean it.”

Matthew blinked in shock. He wasn’t stopping the argument, he was protecting Ludwig. Gilbert growled again. His back was to Matthew, so he could only imagine what sort of expression the alpha was wearing. He growled once more and took a step forward, but Feliciano didn’t budge even as Ludwig gave a threatening snarl from behind. Not because he was angry with Gilbert, but because an alpha was growling at his mate.

“There are more important things to worry about right now!” Feliciano exclaimed desperately. “If we don’t get out of here, we’re going to be arrested!”

Matthew couldn’t sit by and continue to be a bystander, not now. He was the reason they were all together, after all, and he was going to make sure they stayed that way. “Feli’s right! We need to run before they-” 

His words were cut off by the thunderous sound of hooves beating against the ground. The archers were coming. That seemed to snap Ludwig and Gilbert out of their angry alpha trance for a moment later, Ludwig was ripping the scabbard from his back and shifting into his wolf form. As Feliciano and Elias scrambled on his back, Matthew grabbed Gilbert by the shoulder.

“Gil, hurry!”

Finally, Gilbert listened. He shook his head and ran around Kuma’s side as Matthew sat back up. To Matthew’s utter astonishment, Ludwig didn’t run deeper into the forest. Instead he backed away from the slope, flicking his tail from side-to-side as he moved. Kuma joined him without any sort of prompting from Matthew. The two beasts stood side by side, still and silent, until the tops of the riders’ helmets could be seen. Ludwig roared, and shot forward. Feliciano may have screamed, and Matthew almost did as Kuma followed Ludwig.

They were headed right for the archers Ludwig just said they needed to run from! Right as the riders skidded to a halt at the dip, Ludwig and Kuma sprang forward. Matthew and Gilbert lurched forward to keep from falling, and squeezed their thighs against Kuma’s sides even though it sent a bolt of pain through Matthew’s ruined knee. He had no idea what in the gods’ names they were doing even as they landed between two of the horses, and continued running, racing away from the startled soldiers.

“That was brilliant!” Gilbert exclaimed to Matthew’s surprise. “The best shot an archer can take is from far away! Ludwig knew that, and decided to get closer to keep them from firing!”

Oh. Matthew let out a whoosh of air. Gilbert was right, that was brilliant, but it had also shredded his nerves. He didn’t want to look behind them to see how close the archers were, but he didn’t need to in order to hear the thundering hooves again. Ludwig and Kuma would have to be quick.

“We need to get to the river!” Feliciano shouted. His body was curled around Elias’s, acting as a possible shield against the arrows that were going to be fired at some point during the chase. “And we should jump from a high point because horses can’t, their legs will break!”

Matthew had no idea how Feliciano was speaking so loudly; right now, he could barely find the air to even breathe. “They’d be fools to shoot, too!” Gilbert called back. “The probability of them killing us is too high if we’re in the water, and if they want us to alive they’ll keep their arrows!”

That sounded like a pretty big gamble, but it didn’t seem like they had any other options. These were Avalonian soldiers, they would play dirty to get what they wanted. It sounded like they used Feliciano as bait to keep Ludwig from fighting, which lead to their arrest. Not to mention these were the soldiers who burned down Gilbert’s old village, and then burned his shack in the mountains. They were rotten alphas. That needed to be taken into account.

“Do you hear that, Kuma?” Matthew asked breathlessly. “When we make it to the river, we’re going to jump in, no matter how high the incline is.”

Feliciano’s own breathless words hit Matthew’s ears, and he chanced a glance to the right. The Fae’s hand was pressed against Ludwig’s neck while his upper body stayed attached to Elias’s back. “Faster, Ludwig, please. I know you’re injured, but please try to run faster. Please.” Ludwig either had incredible strength or was just that strong-willed because he lowered his head and picked up speed. Kuma followed suit, racing beside the dire wolf. Matthew’s heart was going to burst with love for his familiar. He was pushing himself to keep them safe.

“Matthew! Gilbert!” Elias’s scream pierced the air. “To your left!”

Matthew whipped his head around to the left, only to be face-to-face with an archer. He was hunched over his horse, maintaining a crouched position by keeping the weight on his feet in the stirrups. His bow was slung over his shoulder, but his hands weren’t empty. In one hand he held the reins of his horse, in the other he held a rope- no, it was a lasso. They were going to wrangle Kuma!

“Bastard!” Gilbert snarled.

The soldier tugged on the reins, guiding his horse closer to Kuma. The dire bear roared, but the horse didn’t leap away out of fear. If he managed to get that thing around Kuma’s neck and drag him down, the other archers would catch up and they would be- Matthew gritted his teeth. No, that wasn’t going to happen! Gilbert’s arms tightened around his waist. “Can Kuma go any faster?”

“I think this is his limit!” And he would still have to swim across the river with someone on his back. There was no way he could outrun this one archer. So he wouldn’t. Matthew wasn’t a fighter, but he could be. This was his familiar, and he would fight for him! He would fight for his… his pack. But not yet.

The archer drew close enough that Matthew could see the green gleam in his eyes, and see the sweat glittering against his brown horse’s billowing body. Now! He raised his staff, trusting Gilbert to keep him from falling from this strange position. With a yelp, he slammed the bottom of the staff against the rider’s head with enough force he tumbled off of the horse. It felt like little needles pricked his hands from the power of the attack, but it was worth it! It worked!

Gilbert tilted his head back and howled, “_Wooo_! You’re badass, Birdie!” He cut himself off when Elias let out a small shout. They looked over just in time to see another rider gaining on Ludwig’s other side. The rider leant closer with his hand outstretched, as if he were going to attempt to pull Feliciano or Elias right off. Matthew’s heart plummeted in his stomach right as Gilbert screamed, “Get away from them, you bastard!”

But Feliciano didn’t falter. In his hand was Ludwig’s sheathed Zweihander since the alpha couldn’t hold it in his wolf form; he let go of his son and flipped the sword over so he was gripping the concealed blade. With a shout of effort, he slammed the two handled hilt right against the soldier’s unprotected eyes before knocking it against his unarmored chest, causing the soldier to plummet to the ground. Well then.

“Gods, we’ve got a pack full of badasses!” Gilbert cheered. Feliciano sent him a wry smile, his amber eyes bright with the adrenaline of the chase. Matthew wondered if he wore a similar expression. “I think I can smell the river too! We’re getting closer!”

The river was almost upon them. Whatever smile Matthew was wearing vanished because the river meant water, water they were going to have to jump to from some kind of height. He couldn’t swim. Oh, gods, he never told the others- Wait. “How are we going to get across?” he shouted. “Kuma and Ludwig can only carry one at a time!”

Gilbert and Feliciano couldn’t stay on the banks to wait for Ludwig and Kuma to come back either, not with the soldiers on their tails. It would be too taxing to carry two people across… Maybe if they kept an arm around Kuma’s and Ludwig’s necks just for leverage, but kept most of their weight off of them? That might work! He was going to offer up that idea, but Gilbert beat him to it.

“Feli and I are going to have to swim by ourselves.”

Anything but that. Matthew shook his head before ducking out a low branch’s way. “No, that’s too dangerous! You two could get hurt, or- or you’re not strong enough to-”

Feliciano’s voice was determined as he said, “Don’t worry about us! We’ll be fine, we’re strong swimmers!”

There was no more room for debate. They exploded out of the forest, and raced across grass flecked with left over speckles of snow, but the grass ended up ahead, giving way to nothing but the view of a raging river and the land beyond it. From here, the river didn’t look to wide, but Matthew knew once they hit that water, the distance, no matter what it truly was, would be too great. He gasped for breath even though they were still on dry land. He couldn’t do this. He was going to die, Feliciano was going to die, Gilbert was going to die- they were all going to die.

The edge drew closer and closer. Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch their upcoming demise, but then there was a hand on top of his, and lips against the side of his neck, and whispered words against his skin. “To whatever end, Birdie.”

Calloused fingers laced themselves with his own, a silent promise. To whatever end… To war, to destruction, to the edge of a slope and the icy river beneath. Together with a brilliant, sharp-eyed, wild alpha. Matthew opened his eyes as the ground beneath them disappeared.

…

The Eagle watched as the six fleeing individuals plummeted into the river below, consumed by the gentle waves as their five remaining pursuers drew to a halt at the edge of the impossibly steep slope. They too watched the seer, the three wolves, the Fae, and the dire bear fall to their doom. They counted to sixty with the Eagle, but nothing broke the surface, not even a bubble.

The leader of their group turned his horse around and retreated from the slope, followed by the rest of his scavenger brethren. Vultures, truly. Every soldier in Avalon was one.

But the Eagle did not turn away. Silently he watched, flapping his mighty wings every now and then to stay in the sky. A grin curled beneath his white mask. They were much too stubborn and clever to be beaten by the elements of the earth. A river would not be their doom. And sure enough, the head of a black wolf broke the surface, followed by a dire bear’s. The Eagle’s grin faltered as the Fae came up next with a boy in his arms. With effort from both parties, the boy was pushed on top of the wolf’s back, but the Fae stayed where he was in the freezing cold water.

Next came the white haired shifter, holding up the crippled seer. The Eagle could practically feel the shifter’s painful effort as he struggled to push the seer atop the bear’s back. But he did it. They succeeded. The bear and wolf began to swim, cutting through the cold waves with their hungry eyes on the land in front of them. Would they make it? It was a long swim.

Oh, they would, the Eagle knew they would. They were strong, especially that wolf. That _berserkr_. Son of a father who held the weight of a kingdom on his back, and molded from the horrors he himself had seen in Camelot. Water, no matter how cold, no matter how strong, would not kill that beast, not when his very own son was on his back.

But the other two, the Fae and the shifter who were merely bones and skin? It was love that kept them selfless, that allowed their places in life to be taken in favor of someone else’s. For the Fae, it was the love of a mother who had nurtured a fatherless son since he had taken his first gasping breath, who taught him how to walk, how to love, how to get up even when the world told him to stay down. My, how that Fae had grown; it was hard to believe he was the same little thing who used to beg his mother to make him frilly dresses as a child, who used to crawl atop his grandfather and ask for stories, who used to beg the Eagle to make him sweets…

And for the shifter, it was the love of a partner that kept him in the water. A blossoming love that would take time before it had fully evolved, but it was blooming nonetheless. That blazing love so new to both parties, but so beautiful and tragic. The Eagle scoffed at love, that wicked thing that had been his fall from grace so long ago. Ah, but if this shifter survived, he would learn how cruel love could be. He would learn what secrets his beloved was keeping from him. That is, if he survived.

The sun began its descent down as the minutes ticked by. Forty-five minutes- Someone had to count them!- is how long it took before the Eagle dared himself to fly down to the shore the wolf and bear were so close to. He stood atop one of the branches closest to the shore, and peered down, enclosed by the shadows. It wouldn’t have mattered, they were too tired to even look for him, but if they did see him- a winged man- they would brush it off as an illusion created by their exhaustion.

The bear arrived first. Water poured from his fur and soaked the sandy earth as he climbed further up the shore, past the brambles hiding the entrance of the forest from the river, until he was standing on the mossy ground, inches away from the brambles making up their protection. He collapsed to the ground with the seer still on his back, but not for long. The seer crawled to the ground, heaving himself along by his fingers, until he was stretched out beside his familiar.

“Thank you,” the seer whispered hoarsely. “Thank you, dear friend.”

Next came the wolf. He breathed raggedly through parted jaws as his legs shook with every step he took. A river was not a lake, it was not an easy swim, especially when one was tasked with carrying a boy, especially when one had a bleeding foreleg and a marred shoulder. The wolf’s tail trailed along the sand as he stumbled across the shore and pushed past the brambles. He waited until the boy slid off his back before he collapsed behind the bear.

The pup fell to his knees in front of his father. “Ludwig?” The wolf’s eyes were closed. The pup let out a whimper despite being in his human form. He inched closer, and pressed his hands to the wolf’s broad neck. “Dad?” His voice hitched as he shook the fallen wolf, gripping the black fur in his small hands. “Dad, wake up. Please.”

Still, the wolf did not stir. The pup shook his head. He let go and raced to the wolf’s side, pressing his hands against the wolf’s back and pushing that instead, as if it would make any difference. “Get up, you have to!” A lonely pup howls to the moon when they have no one else who will listen. “Please. Please, wake up! _Dad_!”

The wolf’s body jerked before it started to glow. No longer the body of a wolf, but the heart of one- a man was kneeling in its place, shaking and cough and spluttering. Blood oozed from his forearm and shoulder, one new wound and an older one that ripped back open. It mixed with the water and dripped on the ground, but the wolf did not seem to care. His slicked back hair fell into his face, but he didn’t bother to push it away as he rested against his knees and dragged a hand over his face. A moment later, the pup sprang into his lap and wrapped his arms around the wolf’s neck, hiding his cries against his father’s chest. The wolf didn’t hesitate, he held his pup close and rocked him silently. It was okay, the Eagle imagined the wolf was thinking. It was okay.

But it wasn’t, not yet. The Eagle unfurled his wings and took off into the sky to examine the remaining members of the strange pack still in the river. They were so far away, and they were moving so slowly. They were going to drown at this rate. The Eagle looked down. The wolf was gently prying the boy away while he spoke, his words just loud enough for the Eagle to hear.

“I’m going to get your mother and uncle. Stay here with Matthew, and don’t go anywhere else.”

The pup hiccupped. “But, Dad- You’re bleeding.”

The wolf did not have the strength to get to his mate and brother, but the Eagle did. He swooped down until he was directly over the river, letting the smell of mud, fish, and murky water drown out the rest of his senses. He made it to the Fae and shifter, swimming side-by-side and gasping for the same sweet air. He shouldn’t interfere, he would be punished if that wretched King knew he was saving the lives of those he would one day want to destroy, but the Eagle couldn’t help it. He may be a slave, he may be a tool, but he still had some freedoms. So he gripped the backs of their shirts with his dark hands, lifted their upper bodies out of the water, and flapped his wings. He carried them closer to the shore, the two too exhausted to even wonder how they were suddenly moving so quickly.

He looked down and smiled at the limp Fae, the one he has watched grow from afar, the one he knows does not remember him, or his mother, or his grandfather, or his homeland. “It’s nice to see ya again, little fawn.” He looked to the shifter, and his soft smile turned a tad harsher. “And you too, little wolf.”

The brambles shook on the shore. The Eagle let go of the Fae and shifter, and shot into the sky before the wolf could see him. Back in his beastly form, the wolf hurried across the sand and dove back into the water, wadding through the cold, swirling depths just to make it to his mate and brother. How good, how noble. He was the sort of alpha those like the Eagle could only ever dream of being.

The wolf disappeared beneath the surface, and when he came back up, his mate was on his back and the top of his brother’s shirt was between his teeth. He didn’t stop until he made it back to shore. He collapsed immediately as his body started to glow again, leaving him in his human form.

“Lud- Ludwig,” the Eagle heard the Fae whisper as he stood back on the tree he had claimed minutes earlier. The Fae crawled from his mate’s back and lay at his side, shivering. “Ludwig… Elias, where-”

“Safe.” The wolf dragged himself closer to his mate until half of his body was over the slighter male’s- to keep him safe, warm, and reassured. The Eagle wasn’t sure how the damn mutt was even moving. “Fine.”

The other shifter groaned but made no move to get up. He couldn’t. The brambles rustled again as the pup exploded from them, the seer limping quickly after him with the staff still in his hands. He never let go of it, even when they originally jumped in. It was a good thing too. The pup scrambled across the sand before falling to his knees and crawling the rest of the way.

“Mom,” he cried. “Dad! Are you two… are you okay?”

Slowly, the wolf picked his upper body up, but the Fae stayed down, too exhausted to even reassure his son. The wolf’s eyelids fluttered continuously, but eventually they closed and stayed that way. “We’re… we’re fine, Elias. We’re fine.” And then he collapsed over his mate. The pup darted forward and nuzzled his father’s shoulder before crawling beneath his arm, trying to find some sort of comfort despite his fear and horror at seeing his strong parents in such a state.

The seer let out a strangled cry unlike ever before. Perhaps this was the first time he had ever seen his beloved in such a state, or at least the first time he had ever seen him like this while he was in love with him. Using his staff to hold up his entire weight, the seer limped closer until he was directly beside his shifter. He dropped his staff and fell to the ground with it with tears on his face and a gasp on his lips.

“Gilbert. Gilbert, you’re terrible- oh, how could you do this? How could you value my life over your own? Oh, Gil. Gil.”

The Eagle watched them from behind his mask. He could build them a fire, or bring them back food, but he wouldn’t do any of that. No, it was not his place. But he would continue to watch them in case they were found by soldiers, but as soon as the wolf or the shifter woke, he would take his leave. For now, the Eagle ran a hand through his short dark hair and watched the pup and seer cry quietly for their loved ones.

‘_Love, huh_?’ He wanted to laugh. ‘_It never lasts_.’

…

There were voices all around Matthew and he had no idea who they belonged to. His eyes were already closed, but he wished he had the ability to close his ears too. Please, no more visions. Not right now. He already had so many of them, so many that he did not understand. No more King Arthur, no more dragons, no more visions of daemonic armies and hopes and legendary swords. No more.

He just needed to sleep right now. Wherever he was, he needed to sleep. Just sleep… just sleep...

“Gil, wait, where are you going? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Feli. Really, what you guys told me is cool! I’m just going to get more firewood, I’ll be back soon.”

A small pause, then. “Shouldn’t we go after him? I think he’s upset.”

“There’s nothing either one of us could do that would make him feel better. He needs to be alone.”

“I don’t see what the problem is! I didn’t know we had badass ancestors!”

“_Elias_.”

“What? Gilbert called you and Matthew that earlier.”

Those voices weren’t coming from his visions. He forced his eyes open, and blinked. The sky was above him, painted in a bright orange and deep purple with the first stars twinkled overhead, completely visible through the naked branches trying to obscure his view. He blinked again. Wait, hadn’t he been next to the river? He scrambled into a sitting position, only to freeze as an unbearable wave of pain shot through his knee. Gods, that hurt.

“You’re awake!” Feliciano’s cheerful voice drifted through the air, prompting Matthew to look to the right. He gaped at what he saw. A small fire was ablaze, surrounding by twigs and what looked to be small bones. Feliciano and Ludwig were sitting side-by-side, the alpha with his arm slung around his mate’s waist. Standing at their side was Elias, who was waving around a stick with a blackened fish poked against the end of it.

Matthew smiled slightly and lifted his hand to wave, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his knee. Whatever little healing it had done since his “scuffle” with Ludwig a few days ago was gone. If anything, it was worse now. “And so are you.”

Truth be told, he didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was looking at Gilbert’s drenched body and begging the gods to let him live, keep him alive, please, he would do anything as long as Gilbert stayed alive. After that, nothing. Maybe he passed out. That must have been what happened, but at that point, Ludwig and Feliciano had still been knocked out with Elias snuggled against his father’s side as if he were terrified they would end up being separated otherwise. But here they were, sitting by the fire and munching on fish, with only exhaustion in their eyes.

“Yep! We woke up a few hours ago, and decided to move away from the river since it was so cold. Ludwig and Gilbert moved you since you were still knocked out cold. Or, actually, Gilbert tried moving you all by himself originally- he even growled at Ludwig when he tried to help! You know how territorial alphas can be!” Ludwig cleared his throat, and Feliciano gasped. “Oh, no. I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?”

It took a moment for his hazy mind to catch up with the rapid fire words, but when they finally registered, he felt his face warm. Gilbert was a territorial bastard, that much was clear, but it was kind of endearing. No one had ever… well, it didn’t matter. He looked around with one person in mind, but that person was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Gilbert?” he asked. “Is he the one who caught the fish?”

Feliciano shook his head, but it was Elias who replied, “No. Kuma did! He was awesome; he just waddled in the water and started swinging his paws, like this! And then, wam! He was scooping all kinds of fish out of the water for us!”

Matthew blinked in shock. Kuma caught food for the others? How strange, considering the dire bear was so selfish when it came to food. He looked to the right and found Kuma resting with his head on top of his paws. Another wave of affection crashed through Matthew as he regarded his sweet familiar. What a fighter. He dragged his body over the small gap between himself and his familiar until he was by his side. He pressed a gentle kiss to Kuma’s shoulder.

“You helped us so much today, dear friend. Thank you for everything.”

Kuma lifted his head and pressed his cold nose to Matthew’s cheek. He laughed as he tossed his arms around his familiar’s neck. “I know, I’m okay. You made sure I got across the river safely.” Kuma made a small noise, as if he were agreeing to what Matthew said. “I would be lost without you, Kuma.”

“To answer your question regarding Gilbert,” Ludwig said in a tone that made Matthew’s smile fall. “You just missed him. He said he was going to get some more firewood, but I think he wanted to get away from us for a bit.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. Something must have happened. He thought back to the vicious argument between Gilbert and Ludwig during sun high and wondered if that had anything to do with it. He tried reading Feliciano’s and Elias’s expressions to see they could tell him anything, but Feliciano just looked worried and Elias seemed uneasy. His tongue turned to lead. “What happened?”

Ludwig and Feliciano exchanged a glance, identical questions in their eyes. Feliciano gently nudged Ludwig’s shoulder. After sighing, the alpha turned to Matthew. “We told him why Avalon is after us, and I shared with him a, um, secret my father kept from us. Tell me, Matthew, have you ever heard of _berserkirs_?”

Fifteen minutes later, Matthew knew the answer to that question and understood why Avalon was adamant about getting Ludwig back and capturing Elias, a _child_. He had his suspicions about himself- he was a witch in Avalon, which was a problem in of itself- and the same went for Feliciano, who was Fae; simply being labeled as something could result in an arrest or death in the eyes of Avalon’s military and monarchy. But… but these _berserkirs_…

“Is Gilbert a _berserkr_?” Matthew wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Honestly, I have no idea.” Ludwig’s voice was rougher than usual, reminding Matthew of the exhaustion he must be in right now. Not just from the river, but from his _life_. He had only been released from a daemonic prison mere days ago, of course he was tired. “I don’t know if the trait skipped Gilbert because he is only half shifter, or if it’s buried inside of him. Truthfully, there is much I am unaware of regarding _berserkirs_. Like I said, I’m pretty sure I’m bounded to Feliciano but I won’t know for sure until I drink his blood.”

Elias’s face turned colorless in the firelight as he stuck out his tongue, and Matthew didn’t blame him. Blood drinking was a taboo act, something creatures of the night did in bedtime stories meant to scare naughty children. However, Feliciano didn’t seem put-off by it. He nudged Ludwig. “But nothing happened last night,” he said pointedly. “Even though you…”

The fire suddenly interested Matthew greatly as Feliciano leant up and whispered something into Ludwig’s ear. He had a pretty good idea what that something was when Ludwig’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. “I-I guess nothing happened because I knew you weren’t in any sort of danger.”

Feliciano laughed quietly, and rested his temple against Ludwig’s shoulder, peering up through fluttering, flirtatious eyes. “That is the safest place for me, isn’t it?”

“Give me a break,” mumbled Elias.

“But that’s how _berserkr_ powers are activated?” Matthew asked as he looked away from the fire and met Ludwig’s gaze across the orange flames licking the air. “By drinking blood?”

Ludwig’s eyebrows furrowed. “Drinking it, sometimes scenting it, or perhaps watching something truly awful happen to the one you bonded with. There could be more, but those are the big ones. A _berserkr_ turns into the fiercest warrior to protect their bond, and they will not stop until the threat has been taken care of.”

Matthew tried to think of Gilbert as a _berserkr_. He was so smart and quick-witted, but what would he look like in a battle to the death? What would he look like as a bloodthirsty warrior? Maybe it was wrong, but it didn’t matter how horrific or terrifying Gilbert might look as a _berserkr_. He was still Gilbert. No, what mattered to Matthew was the- the bond Gilbert may create with someone if he actually had the _berserkr_ trait. He tried to imagine Gilbert on his knees, drinking the blood of some faceless alpha, omega, or beta before vowing to protect them from whatever dangers were afoot. Something hot burned beneath his skin, and he had no idea what it was, but he did know he didn’t like the thought of some faceless, nameless person controlling Gilbert like that.

He didn’t like the idea of Gilbert showing any sort of vulnerability with a stranger… but they may not be a stranger for very long. If Gilbert were a _berserkr_, he would find a person to bond with; even if he weren’t, he would find the perfect omega somewhere down the line because he was that kind of alpha, the beautiful kind others couldn’t stay away from. They were fools if they were put off by his exotic appearance, they didn’t deserve him if they did that, but someone wouldn’t, some lovely omega who was either a gorgeous woman or a handsome man. They would take him, keep him for themselves, and Gilbert would be happy. That’s what mattered. So why was it this difficult for Matthew to breathe?

He wanted to be with Gilbert right now. Feliciano, Ludwig, and Elias could spend time together as a family, that’s what he would say if they tried to stop him, but right now his entire body was aching for Gilbert’s presence.

“Where is my staff?” he asked. “I want to take a walk.”

Elias stood up and proclaimed, “I’ll get it!” He dashed away from the fire and scampered to a nearby tree where their weapons were scattered along its base with their satchels and rucksacks beneath them. He should check on the _Fabula_ and collar, that’s what a good seer would do, but he wanted to be selfish right now. He wanted to find Gilbert. Elias handed him the staff, and Matthew thanked him softly.

“Do you want me to go with you?” asked Elias. “If I’m actually a _berserkr_, I can protect you!”

Before Matthew could suggest he stay with his parents, Feliciano said, “Matthew will be fine, Elias. Stay here with us! Weren’t you going to ask your father for a real story about shapeshifters? Maybe one involving your grandfather?”

“Oh.” Elias blinked. “I don’t know anything about him except his name...” He shrugged, and sent Matthew an apologetic smile. “I’m going to stay here, but be careful!”

Matthew smiled softly as Elias dashed back to the fire and, shockingly, slid between his parents. Ludwig certainly looked surprised even as he smiled ever so slightly. “Great!” Feliciano cheered. He looked back up, his amber gaze sparkling in the firelight. His jubilant smile turned mischievous as he pointed to the left and winked. “Have a nice walk, Matthew!”

Was he…? Matthew ducked his head and headed left, deciding he needed to have a serious talk with Feliciano regarding his, er, suspicions. But why didn’t he feel any sort of shame? Why didn’t he feel disgusted? Why did he feel so happy and excited instead? He shook his head. These thoughts needed to stay away. There were bigger things to worry about including the King, and the upcoming war between Avalon and Norge, and his visions that have yet to come true. There was so much to worry about, but all Matthew could think about was the alpha with an untamed spirit.

He leant heavily against his staff as he limped through the forest. Thankfully, there weren’t any slopes or rolling hills like there had been in the part of the forest across the river, for he wasn’t entirely sure he could make it over those on his own. He was also thankful it was considerably warmer than nights prior to this one. It was a mild winter’s night. The gods truly were looking out for them. Unfortunately, his knee barked in protest with every step he took, but he needed to walk. He couldn’t keep relying on Kuma for transportation, that’s not why his familiar was with him.

So he marched on until the trees started to disperse and the temperature dropped significantly. He blinked as he saw the river stretched out before him. The orange streaks in the sky were gone, replaced by an inky indigo filled with glittering stars and a waning moon reflecting against the surface of the river. The waves gently lapped against the sandy shore, filling the void of silence the winter’s night created. Perched on a fallen tree a few paces away from the sandy shore was Gilbert with his back to Matthew. His shoulders were curved inward and his head was lowered. Matthew wondered what sort of scent clung to Gilbert, but he had a pretty good idea it wasn’t a happy one.

Matthew lifted his staff, but hesitated in taking a step forward. Gilbert clearly wanted to be alone after getting upset with whatever it was Ludwig said. Why would he want Matthew there? He chewed on his bottom lip. This was foolish, he should have stayed with Ludwig and Feliciano-

“I’m sure I make a helluva good view, but you have to look at this, Birdie. It’s awesome.”

No, he should be here. He needed to make sure Gilbert was okay, and he needed… he really needed to be next to the alpha right now. For whatever reason, he needed to be close. So Matthew walked around the fallen tree and carefully sat beside Gilbert before resting his staff beside him. Gilbert let out a long sigh. “Missed me that much, huh?”

Matthew smiled. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, I just wanted to make sure you were okay after our swim.” But then he turned to look at Gilbert, and his smile vanished. Gilbert’s thin lips were curved downward, and though his eyes shone brightly in the darkness, the spark within them had been smoldered. They reminded Matthew of when they first met, how lifeless and tired Gilbert had seemed. His skin prickled in unease and dread filled his stomach. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You know I’m not going to believe that.” He raised his hand, but let it fall to his lap. Irritation filled his chest, all of it directed at himself. This wasn’t about him right now, Gilbert needed him. He needed comfort, even if he said he didn’t. He took a deep breath, and laid his hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. He almost gaped by how boney it was. “Ludwig told me about the _berserkirs_. Is that, maybe, what you’re thinking about?”

To his amazement, Gilbert didn’t wrench away from his touch, he only lowered his head and shook it “I don’t know. When he was talking, I felt okay. Hell, I thought it was cool our family had some kind of ability like that! I always thought the Beilschmidt line was filled with mercenaries, dedicating a certain part of their lives to defend kings and queens of old, but to actually hear we weren’t mercenaries but these legendary warriors is awesome!” His shoulders slumped again. “But then Ludwig said he wasn’t sure if I was a _berserkr_, because I’m not a full shapeshifter.”

Matthew stayed quiet, allowing Gilbert to collect his thoughts. Silently, he was shocked Gilbert was even talking at all. He usually kept everything bottled up. “I shouldn’t care. When I was a kid, I was jealous my little brother could shift into this awesome looking wolf that looked just like my father, but then I realized how stupid that was. I really don’t mind being a half-shapeshifter, but…” Matthew’s eyes widened as he watched Gilbert dig his fingernails into the bark of the tree. “But I am so damn tired of being this fucking weak.

_Berserkris_ are protectors! The Beilschmidt’s are protectors! The alphas in our family are supposed to be strong, they have been for generations! My father was like this rock, unmoving and unrelenting. When those Shadow Soldiers burned him at the stake, he didn’t even scream, he just suffered silently. And Ludwig- Ludwig is like a blizzard. He’s cold and calculating, and I know he would go to the ends of the earth to keep Feli and Elias safe, and he wouldn’t fail. He’s the strongest guy I know, the very definition of what an alpha should be! And I’m… I’m nothing! I’m weak! I’m supposed to protect my family- my pack, but by the fucking gods, I keep failing! I can’t keep anyone safe, and now I’m told I’m not even a _berserkr_ like the rest of the alphas in my family? It just makes so much sense.”

A piece of Matthew’s heart cracked from the pain in Gilbert’s voice. “But you are strong, Gil.”

“But I’m not strong _enough_!” Gilbert wrenched his shoulder away as he leapt from the tree. He whirled around to face Matthew, his red eyes lined with silver. “When Versteckt fell, I was useless! I let my brother fight alone, and I watched him fall and still I couldn’t do anything! I couldn’t keep his mate, someone I considered my brother, safe either! Instead, he was pregnant and attacked by a fucking mountain lion that could have killed him all because I messed up and couldn’t get back to him! Then- _then_ I get them back and they’re taken from me again! And every single gods damn time you have a vision, I _can never protect you_. If I can’t protect you now, how am I supposed to protect you later down the line, in Camelot, or wherever else we go together? You don’t understand, Matthew, because you aren’t an alpha; you will never understand the _need_ to protect the people you love, and the humiliation you feel when you constantly fail. My family’s purpose is to protect others, but I _can’t_.”

His voice cracked at the end of his self-loathing tirade, and that was that. His face crumbled and he looked to the ground with a heaving chest and trembling shoulders. “I’m not some fucking mythical knight like Gawain. I’m no one worth remembering.”

“No.” The word came suddenly, like it had been ripped from Matthew’s mouth. He didn’t care. He stood up, leaving his staff by the tree, and limped heavily to Gilbert until he was standing right in front of him. “No. No, stop saying these horrible things about yourself,” he said softly. Yelling wouldn’t do them any good, it’s not what Gilbert listened to. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Oh, please,” Gilbert growled. “Save me your bullshit-”

“I’m being honest, Gil,” he interrupted. “When I met you, you didn’t have anything. You were a sarcastic shell of who you are now, and I’m sure you were like that for nine entire years, but you stood back up. You brushed yourself off, held your head high, and started back on the path you strayed from. I’m pretty sure that’s something not many people can do, but you did it.”

Gilbert shook his head, but he didn’t speak. He only kept his eyes on the ground with his lips pursed in a scowl. Without thinking, Matthew pressed his fingers beneath Gilbert’s chin and tilted his head up so their eyes were on one another. Gilbert’s scowl disappeared, and deep within his eyes, a spark emerged. “You _are_ strong, Gilbert. I’ve said it before, I read it on the palm of your hand. That doesn’t mean you’re perfect, and it doesn’t mean there won’t be foes stronger than you, but you- your heart, your mind, your kindness and loyalty- are strong, and nothing you or anyone else says will ever change my mind.”

A silence settled between them, but Matthew didn’t drop his gaze or let go of Gilbert’s chin. If he did either, Gilbert may crash and burn into a dark pit of self loathe and unworthiness. Even if he did, Matthew would crawl inside and pull him out, because he… he…

“Why,” Gilbert murmured. “Why do you have so much faith in me?”

Matthew could feel his heart beat in his ears, a chaotic thumping that was beating far too quickly to be considered safe. But he didn’t let go, he didn’t drop his gaze. “Because you’re my best friend.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened, and the spark in his eyes burst back to life. The Fae were said to have jewel-like eyes, but they couldn’t be the only species to have them because Gilbert’s eyes were rubies, and they were beautiful just like the rest of him. They didn’t move, they barely breathed, but they didn’t need to. Matthew would stand here with a throbbing knee for as long as Gilbert needed him to. However long it would take for him to piece himself back together; Matthew held the thread with him, and together they took turns stitching the shattered layers scattered at their feet.

It felt like hours, but Gilbert finally moved. He didn’t speak, not yet, but he pulled himself from Matthew’s hold in order to lean down and place an arm behind Matthew’s knees. A moment later, he was literally in Gilbert’s arms, and he wasn’t entirely sure how or why he was there. All he could muster was a stupid “uh.”

“Stupid beta,” Gilbert grumbled with a pinched face, as if this was a painful thing to do. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep walking around without your staff.”

Oh. That’s why. A moment later, he was sitting back on top of the fallen tree with Gilbert at his side. He stared at the alpha in slight shock, firstly because he hadn’t realized Gilbert was that _physically_ strong- and from his slightly winded expression, he wasn’t- and secondly because that was incredibly kind. But then again Gilbert was kind, perhaps kinder than he realized. He wanted to thank him, or reiterate that he was strong and wonderful and so unbelievably amazing, and of course people would remember him, but he started speaking before Matthew could.

“When all this is over,” he said quietly with his eyes on the sky. “Let’s become pirates.”

Matthew blinked. That… wasn’t really what he had been expecting, but he should stop expecting normalcy from Gilbert at this point. “Pirates?”

“Yeah.” Gilbert’s bright eyes met his. He was smiling with that beautiful wildness again. “Pirates. We’ll sail the seas together on this huge ship with Gilbird and Kuma as our first mates, and we’ll get drunk off the beer from the port cities and spoil ourselves rotten with the treasure we find. We’ll be the most infamous pirates this world has ever heard of.”

Of all the things, pirates! At least Gilbert was feeling better. He brought a hand to his mouth to cover his quiet laughter. “I don’t know how good of a pirate I’ll be.”

“Oh, you’ll be one of the best, don’t worry. People will underestimate you, but when they least expect it, wam! You show them your badass moves! The Tales of the White Wolf and the Golden Witch! Ah, that has a nice ring to it, huh?”

Matthew laughed again but something lodged itself in his throat, cutting him off. His stomach was beginning to hurt, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was hunger pains. But the longer he thought of this- this strange future with Gilbert at his side… He looked at Gilbert, and Gilbert looked back. The small moon provided just enough light to reflect against Gilbert’s ruby eyes, and it made them shine even brighter than before. But even in the darkness of the early night, there was something ferocious fizzling through him. It wasn’t a bad something, it was comforting to Matthew. If Gilbert’s father was a stone, and his brother was a blizzard, then he was a storm. A raging, unconquerable storm with a voice that boomed like thunder and hands that cut like lightning. A force of nature. And Matthew had always loved thunderstorms.

“I think so,” he finally whispered.

And then Gilbert was moving closer, and Matthew was too. Their movements were slow, almost uncertain, but they didn’t stop until they made it to one another. Their noses brushed against each other’s, and the corner of Matthew’s glasses rubbed against Gilbert’s cheek, but it wasn’t enough to stop either of them. Hesitant, soft, a barely there brush of their lips with their eyes still open and on each other. The breath caught in Matthew’s throat, but he didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want a touch to be _it_. So he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to learn. He wanted to figure it out with Gilbert.

Gilbert’s lips pressed against his again, harder than last time, but still so gentle. They were cold and chapped, but Matthew had never felt anything better against his own. They were heavenly, everything. He wanted more. His fingers were shaking as he threaded them through the Gilbert’s jacket, and Gilbert was trembling as he wrapped an arm around his waist and shoved them closer with enough force, Matthew almost fell from the tree.

Their lips stopped moving against one another’s as Gilbert whispered, “Sorry,” but it didn’t matter to Matthew. Gilbert was clumsy, but it was so endearing, he found himself finding his lips again and wordlessly telling him it was okay. Like this, close and touching and, and it was everything Matthew wanted. It was _more_ than he ever dreamed of. Their mouths never opened, their tongues never touched, but that didn’t matter. It was still perfect because it was _theirs_.

Slowly, their lips parted and their eyes opened. They were breathless despite their gentleness, and their eyes were wide. Matthew wondered if his cheeks were as red as Gilbert’s. His alpha, his gorgeous, timeless, perfect alpha… What comes after a kiss? Is it courtship? He needed to ask, he needed to open his mouth to speak, to maybe ask if that’s what they could become because- because, dear gods, Matthew was… to him, Gilbert was everything.

He opened his mouth and spoke.

“I’m the son of King Alexander.”

…

“What?” Gilbert must have misheard. His heart was pounding in his ears, after all, and the noise had obscured his hearing. It sounded like Matthew just said he was the son of King Alexander, that devil of a man sitting on Avalon’s throne. But that wasn’t right. There was no way Matthew was the _son_ of such a monster.

But Matthew only whispered, “King Alexander Jones Pendragon is my father. I’m- I’m his eldest son, Philip Jones Pendragon.”

The warmth inside of Gilbert’s chest evaporated upon hearing it again, and he slowly took his arm away from Matthew’s waist. He stared at him, trying to make sense of the nonsense that was coming from his beta’s perfectly shaped mouth. “Did you fall head first into the river? Come on, Birdie! Usually, I’d say this is pretty funny, but way to kill the mood!” He laughed, waiting for Matthew to join in, but he didn’t. He just dropped his doe-eyed gaze. The laughter died. “Birdie, come on. This isn’t funny.”

Matthew’s large glasses slipped down his nose, but he didn’t make any sort of move to push them back up. Gilbert tasted the air, trying to gain a sense of Matthew’s scent, and he almost reeled back in shock from the amount of fear spilling from him. It smelt of the earth, of wet grass and trees. It was so different from his usual smell. He straightened as a bit of fear began unraveling itself within his own chest because Matthew still wasn’t looking at him. He still wasn’t saying this was all some cruel joke.

“Birdie. Look at me.” It wasn’t true. This was a prank. It was Matthew’s way of saying- saying he didn’t want to be with Gilbert in a romantic way, but he was too shy to outright say it so he was trying to spin this massive lie. But that didn’t sound like his kind beta. “_Matthew_.”

Finally, Matthew lifted his head and revealed tear-filled eyes. “I was born to Queen Victoria and King Alexander, and was given the name Philip. Two weeks later, I was abandoned and then found by my mother Adhan in the forest outskirts of Camelot in a blanket with the initials _P.J.P_. stitched inside of it. She knew I was their son because it was later announced that a crippled beta had been born, but died of natural causes. I am Alexander’s son. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t make something like this up.”

No one would, especially not Matthew. Gilbert knew that, but he couldn’t believe it. Not for a second. He refused to believe someone so… so wonderful and bright could be that daemon’s son. “Stop,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Just- just tell me you don’t want to be with me. Don’t create some lie.”

Matthew’s eyes widened and he lunged for Gilbert’s limp hand. He folded his calloused fingers over it, cradling it as if it were his lifeline. “I- Gilbert, I want to be with you. I wouldn’t- Oh, gods, of course I want to be with you, but I needed to tell you- I needed to be honest with you. Please, please believe me.”

Believe him. Believe that Matthew Williams, the person he considered his best friend, the first person outside of his family he truly cared about, was not the person he thought he was but instead a made up _façade_? A lie. He wasn’t a witch, he was the son of a monster. He shared the blood of the man who ordered his father to death, who took away his stepmother, who imprisoned his brother, who kept Feliciano and Elias away from him. And Gilbert thought he was in love with that monster’s son?

He took his hand from Matthew’s and let it fall to his lap. He needed to run, or scream, or cry, or something. His insides were crackling with lightning, he couldn’t feel anything- anything but pain and… and rage.

“You lied to me.” He couldn’t feel his lips as he whispered the words. And he couldn’t hear them as he shouted, “You fucking lied to me!”

Matthew flinched, but Gilbert didn’t care. “Yes, yes, I did, but I couldn’t- if I told you when I first met you, you wouldn’t have come with me.”

The rage turned into an inferno and consumed him entirely. He stood from the fallen tree and whirled around to face Matthew, or Philip, or whoever it was he was talking to. “Don’t! Don’t you dare try to justify it! The point is you _lied_ to me, even after I spilled my fucking heart to you! I told you what this rotten kingdom has done to my family, and you just, what? Assumed it wasn’t important to ever let me know it was your _father_ who was responsible for their pain and suffering?”

“He’s- He isn’t my father-”

“_Bullshit_,” Gilbert snarled, too far gone in his pit of wrath to feel the tears burning his eyes, to feel his heart split in two as he stared at the man he thought maybe, just maybe, he could give his heart to. “He sired you, which makes him your father whether you like it or not! And _your father killed mine_. Your father tore my fucking family apart! How… How can you stand to lead Ludwig, and Feliciano, and Elias around on leashes when your father _ruined their lives_? How can you lie to their faces? How can you play with Elias? How can you laugh with Feli? How can you even _look_ at them while knowing you’re deceiving them?

_How can you fucking kiss me when you knew I never knew the truth?"_

Tears coated Matthew’s cheeks, but he couldn’t stop screaming. He couldn’t let the tears cool his anger, nothing ever could. Nothing, nothing, _nothing_ could seal this huge split in his heart caused by the beta in front of him. “Gilbert, please, I wanted to tell all of you but I was- I was scared.”

“You’re a part of our pack,” Gilbert roared, his stupid voice cracking on the word ‘pack’. “You don’t need to be scared of us! You don’t need to lie to us!” But… but he wasn’t a part of their pack anymore. No, when Ludwig and Feliciano learned the truth, Ludwig may very well kill him and Feliciano would make sure Elias stayed far away from him. He shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t keep staring at Matthew, it was ruining him further.

“You’re a fucking coward,” he growled. “A coward and a liar who led me around like a lost puppy. I will _never_ forgive you, _Pendragon_.”

Matthew sobbed, “Gilbert. Gilbert, please. _Please_.”

He could plead until his throat bled, but it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing ever would, because Gilbert would never, ever forgive the man who toyed with his heart. The first person he ever kissed, the first person he ever imagined a future with… and that man wasn’t even real. He was fake, made up, nothing but a lie. Gilbert stared at Matthew for a moment longer, letting his anger and pain fester, before he walked back into the forest. Only then, only when Matthew wasn’t in front of him, did he allow a single tear to fall.

Gilbert didn’t stop until he was standing in the center of their small camp. He didn’t even remember the walk from the shore, it was a hazy blur in his mind. Someone was saying his name. He turned to the right. Ludwig was walking over to him with a furrowed brow with Feliciano and Elias staring at him from the ground. Feliciano’s mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. They needed to hear it from him, they needed to know who it was who was leading them to Camelot, to their possible doom.

“Matthew is the King of Avalon’s son.”

Ludwig froze. Of course he would, he was probably shocked. He was with the son of the man who turned him into some sort of weaponized Shadow Soldier. Not only that, but his family was with him, had befriended him. Gilbert stared at his brother, waiting for his temper to explode and consume him too, but it didn’t. He only looked at Gilbert with some unreadable emotion on his face. It was Feliciano who spoke first. He climbed to his feet and came to stand beside his mate.

“What? No, he’s not! He’s the son of a witch!” The conviction in his voice pulled at Gilbert’s heart. Feliciano saw the good in everything. He would never believe Matthew had deceived them in such a way.

“No, Feliciano. Gilbert is right,” Ludwig murmured. “Matthew is King Alexander’s son.”

Feliciano’s eyes widened, because of course he listened to his mate, and he drew his hands over his mouth. The smell of wilting flowers filled the night. Under normal circumstances, Gilbert would move closer to the shocked Fae and tell him everything would be okay, but he couldn’t. This time he only stared at Ludwig. Why did his brother look so calm? How did he believe Gilbert quickly enough to reassure his mate the statement was correct? It wasn’t like Ludwig to believe something without any proven facts, unless… “You knew.”

Ludwig met his gaze. He looked pained. “I did. Matthew could pass as Prince Alfred’s twin.”

The Crown Prince of Avalon was Matthew’s brother. Something dark swirled inside of Gilbert’s mind, and heart, and legs, and everywhere. His body was consumed by it, whatever this feeling was. It made his head hazy, and his vision blurry. He felt like he was on fire. Gilbert stared at Ludwig, and then slammed his fist into his brother’s face.

Feliciano screamed, and Elias scrambled back in surprise, but for once Gilbert didn’t care. He paid them no mind as he cocked his arm back again, ready to punch Ludwig again and again and again- but Ludwig caught his fist this time, and held it back easily. He didn’t care. He didn’t care tears were spilling down his face, or that his heart was shattering. Nothing mattered, nothing except- “_You fucking bastard; you knew and you never told me_!”

Ludwig’s face was a slate of stone as he pushed Gilbert’s fist away. “Look at you. Look what kind of state you’re in. What good would it have done if I told you?”

“You’re my brother!”

“It was not my secret to tell!” Ludwig roared, placing his hands on Gilbert’s shoulders and giving him a rough shake. “I didn’t tell Feliciano either, I kept it to myself because it was Matthew’s place to tell you.”

Gilbert shook his head, feeling wild and trapped and _so fucking angry_. “Oh, right, this isn’t your fault because you’re Ludwig! You’re practically a god who can do no wrong, aren’t you! You’re my _General_, isn’t that right? You were probably under strict orders not to tell me from that bastard of a King!”

“Gilbert.” Feliciano’s voice was small. “That’s enough.”

He stopped talking, but he didn’t look away from Ludwig. He knew his brother’s temper, and he was waiting for it to rear its ugly head. He wanted to fight, to shove all of his anger and rage down someone else’s throat and if that meant fighting his brother, he would. All Ludwig had to do was a throw a punch. But he didn’t. He let go of Gilbert’s shoulders and looked away with shuddering shoulders and a world weary expression plastered to his face. “I’m not going to fight you in front of my mate and son.”

Mate and son. Gilbert tore his gaze from Ludwig and looked at Feliciano and Elias. Feliciano had backed away and now stood by the fire with his arm around Elias. Elias’s eyes were unbelievably wide as he looked from Ludwig to Gilbert, his own kin. What the hell was Gilbert doing? He knew better than to start unnecessary fights in front of omegas and children. His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

“Let’s go home,” he growled. “We don’t need to keep following him anymore, not when he’s a- a Pendragon. Come on, let’s get our stuff.”

He stalked over to the tree holding up their weapons and bags. He swung his quiver of arrows around his back, followed by his satchel. As he picked up his axe, he looked up and found Ludwig and Feliciano just staring at him, unmoving. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“Gil,” Feliciano said softly. “I think you need to take a deep breath and calm down.”

Calm down? Gilbert blinked and straightened. “I can calm down while we walk. Come on, guys, we’re going home. Somewhere, I don’t know where yet, but we aren’t staying here. We aren’t needed.” They didn’t move. “You guys actually want to stay?”

Feliciano’s tear filled eyes widened, and he looked away. “Whether or not Matthew is the King’s son, he’s still a seer, right? He had visions of us saving Esmya! And-and regardless of him, I’m apparently supposed to find the Faerie Queen for my people. I can’t let them down.”

“I still don’t believe in that prophecy,” Ludwig said quietly, “But I made a promise to a friend, and I’m going to uphold it. I need to get Sakura out of the palace, and I’m going to get Kiku out too. You may not know him, Gilbert, but I do. And I know he would do the same-” He paused and looked to Feliciano and Elias. “-if the roles were reversed.”

Gilbert couldn’t believe it. “So you’re going to jeopardize your own family’s lives for the sake of some omega and their kid?” He knew he shouldn’t, he knew it was wrong, but he crossed his arms and spat, “Are you sure you aren’t the father of that girl?”

“_Shut up_.” Gilbert did because it wasn’t Ludwig who snarled those words, it was Feliciano. His usually gentle face was contorted in fury, his lips were curled, showing the elongated canines every Fae had, and his bright eyes were narrowed slightly, glittering with rage. In all the years he had known the little omega, this was the first time he had ever seen him look so angry. Ludwig and Elias were staring at him with widened eyes, but all it took was one stroke of Ludwig’s hand and the snarl vanished. Feliciano closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“It’s wrong to abandon Matthew just because of who his parents are. I don’t know my actual surname, the only last name I’ve ever had is Beilschmidt. What if it turned out to be Pendragon? Would you abandon Elias and me?”

Frustration burned within Gilbert’s chest. “Of course not, because you never lied about it!” He kept staring at Feliciano until he looked away and leant against Ludwig’s chest. They didn’t walk over to him to get their things, they just stood by the fire and watched him quietly. They weren’t going to leave. They were actually going to stay. “Fine! Stay here with a fucking Pendragon, see if I care! But I can’t. You don’t understand why I just _can’t_ stick around.”

He grabbed the rest of his things and regarded his family one more time. Ludwig shook his head, Feliciano closed his eyes, and Elias took a step forward. “Gilbert,” he said quietly with tears on his cheeks. “Please don’t go.”

A slight hesitation, but... “I’m sorry, kid.” Gilbert turned around and started walking away, away from his family, away from the quest and prophecy, and away from the only person he had ever fallen in love with. “You’ll understand someday.”

Ludwig, Feliciano, and Elias watched him go until the darkness of the forest swallowed him up and left not a single trace, as if Gilbert had never even been there to begin with. Feliciano felt like he was going to be sick. The things he spat at Ludwig, the things he said… He swallowed the bile in his throat. “Oh, Gil.”

“Has he…” Elias broke off. “Is his anger usually that bad?”

“No,” Feliciano whispered. “I think he was acting like that because his heart broke.” Because Gilbert hated every Pendragon, but he loved Matthew. No matter what the stubborn brute said, Feliciano knew he loved Matthew. But Matthew was actually a Pendragon, so where was he supposed to fit inside Gilbert’s heart? “I’m going to find Matthew.”

He left the fire and went the opposite way of Gilbert, maneuvering over the roots and brambles and debris in his path. Ludwig and Elias slowly followed him, but they stopped a distance away from a fallen tree on the shore while Feliciano continued. He swung himself onto the branch and wrapped his arms around a still sobbing Matthew.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

But Feliciano only held him and said, “Hush, now. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. He was just angry, he didn’t mean whatever he said to you. It’s okay, we’re here.”

Elias watched them quietly with trembling knees and a tear-stained face. Gilbert had been scary, but he forgave him already because that’s what friends and family did. That’s what his mother always said. Forgive others. He watched his mother forgive everyone in the Orlon Forest who mocked him and spat at his feet. Gilbert could forgive Matthew, right? He didn’t really understand what any of this meant- broken hearts and the like- but he knew his uncle was angry and his friend was upset. He looked up at his father, so still in the shadows of the forest.

Fathers were supposed to have all the answers. They were supposed to chase the monsters away, they were supposed to laugh in the face of danger, and they were supposed to act as the solid rock in their families. Elias used to see Antonio as his father, a shining beacon who gave him piggy back rides and snuck him extra pieces of meat during dinners, but now he was beginning to see this alpha as his real father.

That’s what he thought as he wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s waist and asked, “What’s going to happen now?”

Ludwig’s eyes strayed away from the scene in front of them and met the pair peering sadly up at him. A large hand patted the top of Elias’s head before stilling on the back of it and pulling him closer. “I don’t know, Elias,” his father murmured. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I _promise_ the next chapter will be shorter. I sort of miscalculated this time, oops.
> 
> In case anyone was wondering, "The Eagle's" wings are supposed to resemble the wings of an eastern imperial eagle. Just wanted to drop that in cause, oh boy, he's kind of a big character ;) Thanks for reading!


	17. Crossroads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how this story has **graphic depictions of violence**?
> 
> EDIT: Okay, I have zero idea what happened but it seems that entire sentences and an entire paragraph were just deleted from this chapter?? I am so sorry, they're written out in the word document, but not here?? Anyway, I have fixed them, but jesus how embarrassing. I'll do a better job re-reading to make sure this doesn't happen again! (can you tell this work is un-betaed?)

By the time the sobs stopped, Matthew’s throat was raw and his eyes were swollen red, fat droplets on the rounded lenses of his glasses. Tremors flooded his body, accompanied by little sniffles and gasps of breath. His body was made from stone, limbs heavy and jagged, weighing too much for him to move on his own accord, but at the same time it felt like he was floating through some strange space and he worried he would never find the ground again. Everything _ached_, too. From the fall, to the river’s current, to now. He never wanted to move his body again.

It was like the aftermath of a taxing vision, the tremors and weightless feeling swimming through him. Just like a few nights ago when he had been in Gilbert’s arms, nose bleeding from the onslaught of visions he was given. The memory made his stomach lurch.

“Breathe, Matthew,” Feliciano whispered with an arm still wrapped around Matthew’s shoulders. “Just breathe.”

Matthew hiccupped, and turned his head to press it into Feliciano’s neck. A floral scent was wafting from the gland against Feliciano’s neck and shoulder where Matthew’s nose touched. The mingling smell of herbs and flowers cascaded over him like a breeze in springtime, and maybe he was nothing more than a greedy liar, but he did not want to wrench himself away from his omegan friend. He wanted to stay in his arms where, despite being much larger than Feliciano, he felt safe.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew croaked out, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh.” Feliciano must have said that for the fifth time since he climbed onto the log. “Try not to speak right now, just concentrate on breathing.”

Another broken noise left Matthew as he nodded, but he listened and did not speak. Cold lips dragged themselves over his temple, and he pushed himself further against Feliciano’s warmth. He did not deserve a friend like Feliciano, and maybe he would not have one come morning light. And he would be alone, but he would deserve it.

A filthy liar did not deserve Feliciano, just as they did not deserve Gilbert.

The mere thought of the heartbreak in Gilbert’s strong red eyes caused another wail to erupt from Matthew. The devastation on Gilbert’s face would haunt Matthew’s dreams, nightmares, and visions until he took his final breath, for that he was certain. What kind of person deceived the one they claimed to care for by kissing them? As soon as his own lips touched Gilbert’s chapped and cold ones, he knew he could no longer keep the secrets to himself. If only he had told the alpha sooner.

If only he hadn’t fallen…

Matthew refused to finish that thought. It didn’t matter anyway, not anymore at least. It shouldn’t have mattered in the beginning. If someone were to pull the layers back and see what Matthew truly was, they would find a prophet who was, for some reason, chosen by an ancient prophecy to find a possibly mythical king and lead him to victory. There was no room in him for things like love.

And Matthew should have never allowed himself to fall into the comfortable pitfall that was Gilbert Beilschmidt.

There was no telling how much time passed while Matthew stayed plastered to Feliciano’s side and hiccupped his way through the unbearable pain tearing its way through his heart. Feliciano never wavered, he kept his arm around Matthew’s waist and continuously whispered reassuring words into Matthew’s ear. For one so small, he was strong, and Matthew would forever be indebted to the kindness he gave for free.

Finally, Matthew leaned away from Feliciano, glasses crooked and eyes a shade of angry red. He looked at Feliciano and took in the glossy amber eyes and gentle smile, and quickly rubbed his cold hands over his face in order to give himself something to do, else he would start crying all over again.

“I’m okay,” he croaked out. He hoped Fae could not sense if someone were lying, then immediately realized they probably could not considering Feliciano had fallen for his deception in the first place. “Really, I am.” He dropped his hands, faint tremors running through them. He lifted his eyes to meet Feliciano’s, but quickly lowered them to take in the moon shimmering against the black surface of the rippling river. Though he only glanced quickly at his friend, tears had gathered into his eyes again. He slid his tongue over his lips, cringing from the salt he collected.

The claw shaped moon sparkled atop the waves that had tried so hard to drag them down hours earlier, twinkling and fading like a gigantic star. Matthew concentrated on that as he drew in a deep breath and allowed himself to think of the one thing he could barely even think of without his stomach clenching in alarm and that was Gilbert’s current wellbeing.

He must be devastated. Matthew wondered if he tried purposefully picking a fight with Ludwig just to get some of the anger out of his system. He hoped that was not the case, but he knew it was a false hope; Gilbert probably had.

_‘I should ask Feli_,’ came the distant thought in his head. But burning hot embers were sticking to his throat and scorching his vocal chords, rendering him unable to speak. Even after the consequences of his earlier actions were uprooted, he was still a coward.

After the small lapse of silence, Feliciano still did not speak. Matthew could feel his eyes on him, but the little omega said nothing. He did not demand answers from him, but there were no words of comfort either. It made bile rise in Matthew’s throat. He had never seen Feliciano angry, and at this point he was terrified to see such justified anger. Would it be loud and violent like Gilbert’s? Or was it quiet while still having the strength to cause a catastrophe?

Even though there weren’t any tears left, Matthew wanted to cry.

“Matthew?” a trembling voice squeaked on his other side. He looked down where the fallen log was still connected to the earth and saw Elias peering up at him, messy golden hair hiding half of his face, but nothing could hide the fear in his gleaming eyes. Matthew wondered how distorted Elias’s scent was, and if that was why Feliciano murmured, “It’s okay, Elias.”

Yes, it was okay, and it was nothing a young pup needed to worry about. Matthew took in a deep breath, letting the muddy scent of the river trickle through his clogged nose. He smiled, hoping Elias ignored his swollen eyes and tear stained face. “Your mother’s right, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” The smile wobbled, but Matthew refused to let it fall, even if Elias’s eyes widened and his own lips trembled. “It’s been an exhausting day for everyone, so my emotions are all over the place. That’s it.”

Matthew knew it was unfair to speak to Elias like he were nothing more than a stupid child rather than a brave one who was so strong for such a fragile age, but he did not know what else to say and he absolutely could not speak the truth. Not to Elias, or Feliciano, or anyone. Not even to himself. It would destroy him.

Feeling like an ancient marble sculpture from Raetia, Matthew planted the base of his staff into the ground and gripped it tight as he stood from the log, boots sinking into the soft sand of the shore. A throbbing pain like no other flashed through his knee and dug its teeth into his thigh- a consequence of continuous walking, or jumping into a river from a ridiculous height- but he ignored it, tried not to flinch even though Elias and Feliciano could probably smell the pain with their superior senses.

“It’s late,” he said softly into the still night. “We all need to rest.”

He did not wait for the sounds of Feliciano’s and Elias’s footsteps following him before he continued back the way he came, tripping over debris that he usually would have had no problem avoiding. He ignored that too. All he wanted to do was curl into Kuma’s side and sleep; he sent a silent prayer to the moon god to keep his sleep free of visions, dreams, and nightmares, just for the night.

Matthew barely noticed Ludwig standing at the tree line, nothing more than a shadow in the night. He kept his eyes in front of him. What would Ludwig say? He had figured out Matthew’s identity easily, but, as far as Matthew knew, he had kept quiet about it even if he had left Matthew with an unnerving statement the time he confronted him about his true identity.

_“They will not hate you for your last name. But they will hate you for lying to them.”_

Now everyone knew. Ludwig could stop faking kindness or friendship, even if that was emphasizing the way Ludwig currently acted around him. He had accused Matthew of leading his family into more danger than they realized, all because he was the son of the man who sought to destroy their kinds. Kill them at best, enslave shapeshifters and torture Fae at worst. Matthew’s stomach rolled at the thought of his friends at the hands of the King. His father. The one he was leading them to.

Matthew held his breath as he passed the alpha. His feet slipped against a mossy stone jutting out from beneath a tree, and he scrambled to find some sort of balance with his staff or from the nearby tree, but his body was too tired, his mind too groggy, so all he could do was brace himself for the inevitable impact of the ground below. But it never came.

A hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him away from the ground and into a sturdy chest. He did not need to turn to look to know it was Ludwig who had stopped the fall. “You look as if you are one step away from passing out,” Ludwig’s low voice rumbled as he dropped his hand. “Lean on me before you injure yourself.”

It was the soft lilt of Ludwig’s voice that made a very firm lump form within Matthew’s throat. Without meaning to, his gaze found Ludwig’s face and another piece of his heart cracked. The dark circles beneath his eyes, the scabbed outline of a collar, and the tense way in which he held himself; if Matthew squinted, he wondered if he would be able to make out the strings nailed into Ludwig’s body or the chains that kept him connected to Avalon’s throne.

Here was a man made a slave, a good man who had done nothing wrong but had been snatched away regardless. A direct result of the bloodthirsty King who sired Matthew. Maybe that should not have mattered to Matthew since he had never even met the man, but it did. For some bloody reason, it mattered and it was killing him. He could handle Feliciano’s constant kindness.

He could not handle Ludwig’s.

He had apparently taken too long to answer since Ludwig repositioned himself at his side and started walking, obviously making sure to pace himself with Matthew’s slower steps. They were silent the entire way back to their makeshift camp, even when Feliciano and Elias crept behind them. They stayed that way until they made it to the outskirts close enough for Matthew to see the multitude of reds, oranges, and yellows in the small fire outlining Kuma’s body.

“I’m sorry.” Ludwig’s voice was barely above a whisper.

It was then Matthew noticed the missing rucksack and the lack of a person. It could have been nothing, he could have gone to take a walk to blow off steam, or he could have even been a few paces away, camping away from the rest of them. But if that were the case, Ludwig would not have apologized.

Gilbert left.

Matthew was too tired to cry any more.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

“I will be back before dawn. Stay here and stay together.” Those were the last words Ludwig had said before he shifted into a wolf and disappeared through the trees with dried blood caked across his nose and blood trickling out of past wounds now opened. Feliciano had tried stopping him, but Ludwig insisted.

He left thirty minutes ago, leaving Feliciano, Matthew and Elias beside the fire without any kind of idea as to where he had gone. At least they each pretended they did not know. Feliciano had a pretty good idea where he went, and he hoped he was right. He needed to be right because he could not imagine what things would look like if they were separated from each other.

There was a faint inhale across the fire. Feliciano glanced up, eyes peering over the top of the flames licking the air in order to stare at Matthew. The beta was sitting with his back against Kuma’s side, the dire bear curled protectively around him and Elias, who had basically latched himself to Matthew’s side as soon as they got back to their campsite. He was laying down with his head in Matthew’s lap, body jolting every now and then like he was catching himself from falling asleep. Feliciano wanted to tell him he should try to get some sleep.

Matthew was staring into the fire, the bright flames reflecting in his rounded glasses and hiding his gaze from Feliciano. There was another sharp inhale before the words were released on a breath. “Has… has he done things like this before?” Matthew’s voice was small. “Left like this, I mean.”

Feliciano looked up where a few stars gleamed from beyond the wispy clouds that smelt of snow and ice. He was too far east to see Mab and Oberon. “Gilbert has always let his emotions guide him,” he murmured, aware of the slight movement Elias made. “He likes to think he’s made of stone, that he’s this perfect alpha who doesn’t _feel_ powerful emotions even though that’s exactly what he does and there’s nothing wrong with that.” He looked down and let his head fall back against the tree he was sitting against. He tightened his hold on his cloak draped over him like a blanket.

“Once when we lived in Versteckt, I woke up to Gilbert and Ludwig having this terrible fight. I’d never heard something so frightening.” His eyebrows furrowed at the memory of slinking from his bedroom and finding the brothers in the foyer, the light of the fire in the main room casting shadows across their faces. “All I really heard was the end of it, but Gilbert had been… I can’t even describe it. It was like a vengeful god had possessed him. I actually thought he was going to strike Ludwig, but he didn’t. After packing a small bag, he stormed out. He didn’t come home for two weeks.”

Matthew’s voice was a hushed whisper. “Two _weeks_?”

And what a long two weeks it had been. “This happened before Ludwig and I even started courting, so it was years ago. I think that was the only time he ever left like that because of an argument, but if he ever got upset he would leave for a few days. I don’t think he likes showing vulnerable emotions, even around family.”

A cold wind rattled the bare branches of the trees. Feliciano glanced up as a small match of fear was lit within his heart at the thought of the hellish creatures that could be around them, watching them and waiting to strike. But the match burned out quickly, surprising him. He supposed there were more important things at hand than fear.

“Is it a shapeshifter thing?” asked Matthew quietly.

A kiss of annoyance brushed against Feliciano. It always had to be a “shapeshifter thing”. “I think it’s more like a Gilbert Beilschmidt thing.” He pressed his thumb into the hardened ground and lifted some dirt with his nail. “I think half of the time he acts like this, it’s because he’s scared, like when he fought with Ludwig. Ludwig told me they had been arguing because Ludwig said he wanted to court me.”

Matthew lifted his head abruptly, causing the glow against his glasses to disappear and for his violet orbs to shine instead. His mouth was hanging open. “I… I didn’t think Gilbert was like that.”

Feliciano offered a lopsided smile. “He isn’t.” His eyes wandered over to Elias again. He was not surprised to see that icy blue gaze boring into his own with intensity shining within their depths. Feliciano sent him a soft smile before meeting Matthew’s bloodshot gaze once more. “He was scared something bad would happen to Ludwig. At that point I wasn’t much more to him than Ludwig’s little friend. Maybe the village would turn on him, maybe a few shifters would try to kill him or harass him because he was with a Faerie. It turned into something bigger than that, and, well, you know the rest now.”

“Oh.” What else could anyone say to that? Feliciano certainly did not know.

He uncrossed his legs and stretched them out, wincing when the ache from their earlier fall-and-swim spread through his thighs. “I think Gilbert is really upset about a lot of things that’ve been going on and what happened tonight broke him in some way.”

A thorn pierced his heart at the thought of Gilbert suffering quietly, running away from the ones he loved because he did not want them to see him in such a vulnerable position. Feliciano wished he had not snarled at him earlier, had not acted like Gilbert was the villain, but the omega in him had taken over for the briefest of moments and forced him to react violently at the thought of his mate having a child with another. Such jealousy had never consumed him before. It had been strange, overpowering, and terrifying.

Feliciano had witnessed Lovino act out in jealousy before and right after he and Antonio mated, but that was Lovino, and Lovino was known to be a bit violent. Never Feliciano. There had been a few times in the past when small packs of shapeshifters stopped in Versteckt for a night and some of the omegas within the packs had flirted their way through many alphas in the village; they hardly bothered Feliciano, and all he had had to do was fling himself over Ludwig to get them to walk away. But something like what happened earlier had never happened.

_Your mate hadn’t laid with another omega then._

“Feli, are you okay?” Matthew’s voice shattered Feliciano’s thoughts. He looked back up, blinking away the white spots that danced in his vision from staring into the fire for so long. “You… kind of look angry.”

It was only then that Feliciano felt cold air against his teeth and realized, with a sickening jolt, that his lips had been pulled back in a silent snarl. He covered his mouth even though Matthew already saw it. He snapped his jaw shut, rattling his teeth and just barely avoiding the elongated canines every Fae has from tearing into his bottom lip. He swallowed as a burning sensation took over his hands and feet. What was that? His body just _reacted_. For no reason.

Realizing Matthew was still eyeing him, he dropped his hand and sent a small smile his way. “I’m fine! I’m just…” Just what? He swallowed a growing lump in his throat and his smile vanished. “I’m just exhausted.”

“We all are.” Feliciano and Matthew gasped, and Elias jolted into a sitting position. Feliciano looked to his left where Ludwig now stood, half of his body hidden in the darkness. Despite the shadows pooling around him, Ludwig’s blue eyes glowed. The racing pace of Feliciano’s heart died down as his mind took in his mate; if he were not so tired, he would have teased Ludwig for scaring them. Instead he just quietly moved over as Ludwig settled beside him. “We need to rest.”

He said nothing about where he had been, but Feliciano caught the smell of burning wood on his clothes- Gilbert’s scent. So he had been right. But Gilbert was not with Ludwig, meaning Ludwig’s little mission had been unsuccessful. Feliciano felt like a fool for even getting his hopes up. He pressed against Ludwig’s side and kissed the now dressed wound on his shoulder. Unexplainable tears gathered in his eyes when Ludwig’s lips brushed against the top of his head.

It was quiet afterward. Feliciano knew he needed to clean off Ludwig’s bloody nose, but the mere thought of moving was too much now. He was a terrible mate and an even worse healer. He needed to ask what Ludwig had said to Gilbert, but his tongue was stitched to the roof of his mouth. So he closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into Ludwig’s chest and tried to ignore his racing thoughts of Gilbert, and Matthew’s betrayal, and a faceless omega who stood beside his mate. All of it needed to stop.

“Feli.” A wail lodged itself in Feliciano’s throat, but he forced to ignore it and open his eyes. His entire body jolted when he took in Matthew’s fierce and broken expression across the fire. Tears fell from his eyes and glistened against his cheeks while the fire danced across his face and within his violet gaze, burning so brightly, Feliciano had to wonder if it was caused by Matthew’s hidden magic. “Back then, Gilbert came back, didn’t he?”

Back in Versteckt, all of those years ago. He could feel Ludwig’s gaze on him, but he ignored it for now. “He did.”

Matthew closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. When he sighed, the entire forest seemed to sigh with him. “I need to know,” whispered Matthew as he opened his eyes, “if you two are still going into Camelot with me. It’s a selfish request after everything my father and I have put the two of you through, but I must know.”

Right now, bathed in nothing but firelight and starlight, Matthew Williams did not look like an eighteen year-old boy, but a prophet with the weight of a kingdom- no, a continent upon his back.

Feliciano and Ludwig shared a glance. There had not been any time for them to privately talk about Matthew’s betrayal. They told Gilbert they were staying with him, but that had been hours ago when the truth had first been uprooted, or rather when Gilbert and Feliciano learned about it since Ludwig had already known. For the first time, Feliciano realized this was his chance to leave. He could find somewhere to live with Elias and Ludwig, because if he asked Ludwig to leave, to climb aboard a ship and sail to a different continent, he would. He would abandon Kiku and Sakura because he loved Feliciano that much. The idea tasted like the sweetest of waters, and Feliciano was so thirsty.

He took in the exhaustion etched so deeply into Ludwig’s face- the black circles beneath his eyes, the scar across his chin, and scabbed outline around his neck. Alexander Jones Pendragon- Matthew’s _father_\- ruined him. In ways Feliciano still was not aware of, that monster hurt his mate. Why were they on a quest with the son of that monster? Why should they care about the future of Avalon when neither of them even came from the kingdom? Why should Ludwig keep a promise to someone who was barely a friend? Why should Feliciano try to find a lost queen of a peoples who seemed intent on making his and Elias’s lives living hells?

All Feliciano had to do was say no, they would leave Matthew and his ancient prophecy and turn their backs on an already doomed land. But when Feliciano opened his mouth, ready to say those exact words, nothing came out. Lovino’s face flashed in his mind, and then Antonio’s, and Catalina’s. They were counting on him, just as he always counted on them. If he found the queen for them, he could take Ludwig and Elias somewhere far, far away where there were no such things as once and future kings or Faerie queens.

A single tear slipped from his eye as he brought a hand to cup Ludwig’s cheek. _‘I’m sorry.’_ Then he dropped his hand, looked to Matthew, and said, “Yes, we’re still going.”

Ludwig made an affirmative grunt. His hand found Feliciano’s; Feliciano had never been so grateful for the touch of his mate.

For a good moment, Matthew and Feliciano did nothing but stare at one another even as the tears continued to fall from Matthew’s eyes. But then Matthew looked up, toward the stars that had become brighter as the clouds rolled away. Feliciano and Ludwig followed his gaze.

“A witch is a creature of solitude,” he whispered. “My mother who raised me told me that once. Witches do not have mates, and I finally understand what she meant by that. I could never choose between the person I love and a grand destiny, so I will choose now before my feelings grow into something more than what they are now.” A trembling breath, a quiet sob, and then in perhaps the clearest voice Feliciano has yet to hear from Matthew:

“I choose King Arthur and the future of Esmya.” Above them, a star sailed through the sky before it disappeared completely in the vast valley of them. “My feelings for someone cannot get in the way of Esmya’s future, and it’s clear that’s exactly what they’ll do so I… I have to let them go. I have to let _him_ go.”

A destiny that can only be fulfilled if one is to bar their heart from something as beautiful as love. What a lonely existence. Feliciano wondered if the Merlin in the myths ever had someone to call his own, or if he was just as lonely as Matthew was clearly destined to be.

“You have me.” Elias’s voice was so small, but it was loud enough to bring everyone’s attention to him, where he now sat in an upright position beside Matthew, eyes wide and desperate as he clutched Matthew’s hand. “You have all of us, don’t you?”

Matthew smiled softly. He patted the top of Elias’s head with his free hand before drawing the boy into a hug. “For now, Elias,” he whispered. “I have all of you for now.”

Feliciano wondered if it that would ever be enough.

Not too far from the fire, two sets of eyes peered through the darkness at the top of a slope in the forest and looked on with great interest at the five figures assembled around the fire. One’s gaze flickered every now and then to look at the creature beside him, but he, the true hunter, kept his steady gaze on the five. He licked his lips and narrowed his dark eyes. Then he turned his head and silently slid down the slope, straight into the ravine.

Startled, the other sent a final glance at the five figures before following after the one in the ravine. He ran a hand through his short cropped dark blond hair and breathed, “Why not attack them here? They don’t suspect a thing.”

The dark eyed one only hummed and started on the path cutting through the ravine. He did not need a torch to see in the dark, nor did his companion. “Do you know how to make a shapeshifter submit, Reiner?” His voice was like two stones striking against one another, harsh and gritty. The outlier was the dash of amusement curling beneath his words.

Reiner eyed the whip resting at the man’s hip, but said, “Not… entirely, sir.”

“It’s quite easy, actually.” The man spread his hands in front of him. Reiner could only see the man’s back as they walked, but he suspected he was grinning. “You can break every bone in their body, spill their blood until their lips turn blue, and make them do unspeakable things until their minds break, but that can only get you so far.” The forest was deathly silent and Reiner wished for even the quietest of noises to drown out the man’s words. 

“Oh, no, it won’t get you far at all,” continued the man. “So what you do is you take someone they care about. A mate. A son. Or-” The man paused to chuckle, and the noise sent a shiver down Reiner’s spine. “-someone who is just a little more than a friend. You get them and pull them apart right in front of a shapeshifter, and you will watch the fire in their eyes die. They will become the most compliant things you’ve ever seen, just like an obedient dog.”

Reiner thought of the _kitsune_ shapeshifter nestled in the palace, the one with the daughter. He was a perfect example of the truth in the man’s words. “I see, sir, but what does that have to do with who we’re after? General Beilschmidt’s mate and son were right in front of us.”

“True, but I’m too old to fight that mutt one-on-one and we have no idea the kind of power his omega or that limp bastard hold. We wait, Reiner. Our plan is to have the others take the omega, beta, and child, and then _that_ will give us three compliant alpha _berserkirs_ for His Majesty.”

Reiner halted. “Three? The only two are General Beilschmidt and his son.” The man stopped, and Reiner realized his words were borderline disrespectful toward a superior officer. “Sir.”

The man did not discipline him. Instead, he said, “Yes, I suppose King Alexander may only be getting two, but I want to test a hypothesis of mine. That brother of the general’s claims to be only half-shapeshifter according to your sources, yes? Bullshit. There is no such thing as a _half_ shifter. He might think there is, but he’s wrong. So if he’s a full shifter, that means he’s also a _berserkr_. And do you know how I’m going to test that little hypothesis, Reiner?”

Reiner dug his teeth into his tongue to keep from trembling. “How, sir?”

“Simple, really. I’m going to do exactly what I do to the general’s mate.” The man turned half of his body so Reiner could see every single detail on the man’s lined face. His dark eyes gleamed as did his jagged teeth even though there wasn’t any light source around them. Reiner truly understand why this man had been dubbed the beast tamer. “I’m gonna slice open that beta’s stomach and see exactly how our new dog reacts.”

The silence grew thicker. Reiner’s own shifter instincts were telling him to run, but he could not less he wanted to be killed on accounts of desertion under military law. “And- and we’re going to be able to stop possibly two rampaging _berserkirs_?”

The beast tamer’s grin widened. “Of course not.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two identical black collars that were carved from the same black stone. “That’s what these little things are for.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The town of Quimper was one of the quietest towns Ludwig had ever stepped foot in. He had never even heard of the place until yesterday as he and Matthew were studying a map of Avalon. It was the first town they would hit after coming out of the Wye Forest, and considering their ruined clothes and shoes, a stop was necessary even if the idea made Ludwig’s skin crawl. He had wanted avoid every town they passed, but even he knew they could not continue their journey in the clothes they had.

Not to mention, someone walking around in the uniform of one of Avalon’s elite shapeshifters was like wearing a target. It was asking for trouble, which was why Ludwig was now wearing a different outfit as he stood in line with Elias at some booth the boy had insisted upon going to.

A black tunic fell down to his upper thigh, buttoned together with pieces of silver. The black belt around his waist matched the buttons with the silver accents decorating the sides of it, and strapped to his belt were the two daggers he’d kept hidden in his uniform. Beneath the tunic was a white shirt, and a pair of black pants that were stuffed inside of his old black boots. From his back was his Zweihander, sheath blending into his tunic. Feliciano had complained after Ludwig finished changing, saying a little bit of color wasn’t going to kill him, but the idea of attracting attention to himself made his skin crawl, again.

When Elias picked out an outfit that also just so happened to be completely black, Feliciano had sent Ludwig a small glare. It was then he decided to leave Feliciano and Matthew in the boutique and venture outside before he was verbally scolded. He was quite surprised when Elias joined him after his outfit had been paid for, courtesy of the pouch filled with gold coins Ludwig had given Feliciano. He expected Elias to stay with his mother, or Matthew. But instead, he stood beside Ludwig outside of the boutique until something caught his attention and he asked,

“What’s that?”

He had pointed to a vendor not far from the boutique. It, like many of the other buildings in Quimper, was built between trees. The man behind the vendor presented a cup to a young omega and their child with flourish, and smiled kindly as the child took the cup and drank from it, only to draw it away and squeal in delight. A smudge of brown liquid was across the child’s lip, and that was when Ludwig pieced it together.

“It’s a drink from the Eastern Continent. It’s something called cocoa.” Elias had just stared, so he tried a different direction. “Like melted chocolate.”

Elias’s eyes immediately widened, and he all put pushed Ludwig over to the small line which was where they now stood with Ludwig casting glances back to the boutique every now and then to make sure no one suspicious wandered inside, but the streets were clear aside from a few villagers lined behind vendors like the one they stood at. It was strange.

“I’ve never had melted chocolate before,” Elias said as the line inched closer. “When Mom used to go to market, he bought me chocolate but that was ages ago. It was so good too!” Ludwig was not entirely sure what to say so he just nodded.

The clanking of armor caught his attention next. He swiveled his head to the right where three Avalonian guards were stalking down the street, hurriedly talking amongst themselves. Even though they looked busy, Ludwig still ducked his head just in case they recognized him, though he honestly doubted it. The garrison was not a branch he was familiar with. There was a knot of anxiety in his stomach at the thought of being caught here. If anyone recognized him, it was a death sentence for Feliciano, Elias and Matthew. No, it would be worse than that. Much worse than a merciful death sentence.

“You know, you wouldn’t look so scary if you smiled.” Ludwig blinked. Had he heard that right? He looked down but Elias was staring at the vendor on his tippy toes, hands concealed in the sleeves of his new black, fur-lined coat. “I’m serious. People are staring at you because you look so grumpy.”

Once again, Ludwig blinked. He glanced around, suddenly self-conscious of the apparent attention he was drawing to himself. “Are… are you sure?”

Elias finally looked up. His nose and cheeks were rosy from the biting cold they were standing in, and his blue eyes were bright with just a hint of mischief in them. He raised an eyebrow as his lips quirked up. “No, I’m not. It was a joke.” The tight ball of anxiety loosened itself for a brief moment, giving him enough air to murmur out a soft, “Oh.”

Slowly, Elias’s smile fell. “Yeah.” He turned back around, and Ludwig swore he caught the beginnings of a grimace on his face. He had no idea if the look was in response to Ludwig’s reaction or Elias himself, but no matter the reason; it still made the knot in Ludwig’s stomach tighten, this time the anxiety caused by something other than the possibility of being caught by Avalonians.

Three days ago after they had their swim through the Wye River, getting along with Elias had been easy. The boy had been compliant, happy even to talk and sit with Ludwig, but now it seemed things were back to the way they were before. Ludwig could not find it in himself to blame Elias. He certainly did not know how to be a proper father, and since the circumstances were so strange, Elias was probably confused. He clearly did not know how to act around someone who called themselves his father.

Where was Feliciano? He needed to buffer this disaster.

Thankfully, the line moved and before they knew it, they were standing in front of the vendor. The owner was a graying man with dark skin and an even darker beard. He smiled but said nothing, even as Elias exclaimed, “Two melted chocolates, please!”

The man’s eyebrows twitched, but Ludwig did not sense any sort of hostility or annoyance from him. It was then he heard someone speak from the other side of the vendor, a woman with a turban wrapped around her head. He understood then. He gently nudged Elias, who blinked wide eyes up at him. “Put up four fingers and call it cocoa.”

Elias gave a small nod and turned back around. He did as Ludwig said and put up four fingers before announcing, “Cocoa! Um, please.”

Now the man nodded and held up three fingers before saying something to the woman behind him. Elias gave an excited bounce as Ludwig slipped a hand into his pocket to retrieve the few gold coins he had grabbed from his pouch before giving it to Feliciano. He pressed them on top of the counter, the gold shining despite the sun hiding behind the gray clouds. The man’s eyes widened before he quickly shook his head, but Ludwig simply nodded.

The man stared for a moment longer before he carefully picked up the gold and cradled it to his chest. Then he bowed and murmured softly in a language Ludwig did not understand. He glanced around, but realized it did not matter. No one would understand him anyway. “_Kein Sorgen_.” The man looked up, clearly startled. Then he smiled, even though he had no idea what Ludwig had just said. Ludwig found himself smiling back.

A few minutes later, the man was pressing two cups made from some kind of rough pottery work into Ludwig’s hands while the other two were sent to Elias’s. Elias beamed, shouting a quick, “Thank you!” before he turned and followed Ludwig away from the stall and back toward the boutique.

They sat on the ground with their backs resting against the side of the boutique. Ludwig carefully rested the extra cup between his legs before taking Elias’s and doing the same thing, not trusting such a young, soon to be excited, boy doing such a thing without spilling it. The scent of herbs and leaves filled Ludwig’s nose beside the aromatic smell of the cocoa, and he prided himself on recognizing it as Elias’s happy scent. There was a faint tickle against his lips as he watched the large smile spreading across Elias’s own face.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, feeling his own excitement at the idea of Elias trying something new. “Give it a try. Oh, blow on it first. It’s hot.”

Elias did, a bit more forcefully than was truly necessary, but it got the job done. In no time, he was tipping his head back and taking a large gulp. When he pulled it away from his lips, some of it was smeared across his upper lip. His eyes were as wide as the moon and nearly as bright. “It tastes just like chocolate!” He said it with such disbelief, Ludwig actually chuckled.

“Well it _is_ melted chocolate.” Elias laughed. The sound made something in Ludwig’s heart warm. Softly, he asked, “Do you like it?”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever had!” He brought the cup back to his mouth and took such a big gulp, Ludwig wondered if there was anything left. This time when he drew it away, he wiped his mouth and turned back to Ludwig. “Thanks, Dad!”

Ludwig was thankful he had not been in the middle of drinking his own cocoa because he was quite certain he would have choked. Dad. He wondered if he would ever get used to hearing that word, and from the wide eyes on Elias’s own face, he wondered if his son would ever get used to saying it. Not knowing what else to do, Ludwig looked down in his cup. He needed to say something or there was a good chance Elias would become too uncomfortable to say it again.

So he cleared his throat and mumbled, “Um, you’re welcome. Son.” He never wanted to be swallowed by the earth so badly than in this very moment.

Elias snorted and then he laughed. Maybe it shouldn’t have had this effect on him, but Ludwig felt himself grow less embarrassed the more he heard that chiming laugh that seemed to resemble Feliciano’s more than his own. As Elias laughed, the sky opened up and tiny snowflakes fell, lilting and soft just like his laughter, but Ludwig still shivered when one fell on top of his nose. The falling snow drew Elias out of his fit of laughter enough for him to grin and say, “You’re really weird.”

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s safe to say the same about you.”

Elias’s grin fell, and Ludwig inwardly panicked, thinking maybe he had been too bold and had insulted the boy, but before he could apologize, Elias said, “See? It’s not that hard!”

“What isn’t?” asked Ludwig, confused.

“To smile.” Elias sent him one of his own, a bit lopsided and uncertain but it was a smile nonetheless. “You did just a second ago.”

Ludwig had not even been aware of it. He was not sure what to do with the warmth blooming throughout the expansion of his chest; the warmth inside of him was usually something only Feliciano had the ability to bring out, at least recently and even that was a rarity. But Elias was, somehow, doing the same thing. It must be a strange Faerie ability, Ludwig decided, one Feliciano passed down to their son.

Since he was not entirely sure what he could possibly say to such honest words, Ludwig finally took a tentative sip of his own cocoa. The aroma made his mouth water, but the taste was able to quench it. He almost had to bite his tongue to keep himself from making an embarrassed noise. When was the last time he had cocoa as good as this? It must have been in Versteckt, perhaps sometime during Yule. He drew the cup away, but almost immediately brought it back for another taste. Feliciano would be ecstatic to drink this, and maybe even Matthew would be too. He knew Gilbert would certainly love to have a cup, if he were here.

The warmth in Ludwig’s chest dissipated at the thought of his brother, and his nose gave the slightest throb of pain even though it was basically healed now, the swelling thankfully having gone down. Gilbert had never attacked him before. They had their scuffles as children- they were both alphas, after all- and they even fought as teenagers, but Gilbert had never struck him in a fit of rage before. Maybe Ludwig deserved it, he still was not sure, but he really did not want to think about it right now, not while Elias was present.

“Hey.” Elias’s voice crept into his mind and shattered the last whispers of his inner monologue. He glanced down, but Elias was staring at the vendor they had just come from. “Why did you tell me to call it cocoa? And put my fingers up? Couldn’t the guy understand me?”

Ludwig followed his gaze. A young omegan man was standing in front of the vendor now with a very small babe on his hip. The owner handed the omega a cup of cocoa before he smiled and stroked the babe’s cheek, earning him a shrill giggle from the babe. The young mother smiled gratefully before taking his leave. “That man is an immigrant. It didn’t seem like he spoke the common tongue of Esmya, but I assumed he would understand ‘cocoa’ since it’s a word from his language.”

“Immigrant?” Elias was looking at him now, eyes narrowed and lips awkwardly forming around the word. “What’s that?”

“It’s a person who leaves one place and comes to another, either for safety or freedom or as a refuge from war.” Ludwig was not entirely sure what the Eastern Continent was like nowadays, though it was a stretch to say he knew anything about the history either. “Avalon and Glaceria are the two kingdoms of Esmya that are closest to the Eastern Continent, and since Glaceria outlaws immigrants, they have no choice but to come here.”

Elias blinked once before looking back at the vendor. His next words surprised Ludwig. “If they feel like they’ll be safer here, their old home must be really bad.”

Once again, Ludwig was speechless. He took one more sip of his cocoa before handing it to Elias. He did not need to explain himself since Elias gasped, grabbed it, and shouted, “Thank you!” The warmth that had briefly disappeared was back now and this time it burned brighter than ever.

Someone gasped to Ludwig’s other side. He tilted his head back to look at Feliciano, who was staring at the drinks Ludwig was holding between his legs. “That smells like cocoa! Is it? Did you buy us cocoa, Ludwig?”

“He did!” exclaimed Elias as he waved his new cup around eagerly. “It’s really good, Mom! We bought you and Matthew some too!”

Matthew was much larger than Feliciano, but he still peered around the omega in a way that was rather comical, even to Ludwig. His rounded glasses made his eyes resemble that of a great horned owl’s- big and curious. He stepped around Feliciano to keep from crowding the entrance of the boutique. Ludwig stood then with their cups in his hands while they moved in front of him. He handed Matthew his first, followed by Feliciano’s, pausing to let his hands linger against his mate’s.

Feliciano beamed. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve had cocoa! Have you ever had it before, Matthew? Is it popular in Glaceria?”

Matthew, who was staring into the cup with a sort of lost look on his face, spoke slowly and quietly. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s popular in Glaceria since I only lived in the steppes, but I’ve never had this before.” When he looked up, he was met with three sets of eyes staring at him, Feliciano’s and Elias’s bright with excitement. Matthew’s lips formed a tiny smile before he shrugged and took a sip. In a reaction that was very similar to Elias’s, he pulled the cup back and breathed, “It tastes just like chocolate!”

“Doesn’t it?” exclaimed Elias.

Ludwig left them to it in favor of turning his attention to Feliciano, who was eagerly draining the contents of his own cup. When he pulled it away, his face was flush and his lips glistened from the drink. He said nothing, but his eyes were shining with genuine happiness, nothing like the faux positivity that had been present in Feliciano for the past three days. Overcome with love, Ludwig stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his mate’s temple. Feliciano let out a soft giggle.

“I take it Elias liked it?” he asked before taking another sip of his drink.

“It goes without saying,” murmured Ludwig. He glanced back at Elias and Matthew before turning his attention to the surrounding village. Once again, there weren’t any guards walking around or slinking beside the shops. It was odd. Most villages in Avalon were crawling with members of the garrison, but Quimper was quiet. Whenever guards were amiss, it usually meant they were gathering in one location, and _that_ typically meant trouble. He tried to push down the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Feliciano cleared his throat and Ludwig finally pulled his gaze from the street to look back at his mate. Feliciano was staring at him expectantly, amber eyes round and innocent. Ludwig almost asked him what he was trying to say when the white headscarf around Feliciano’s head caught his eye. “Your new outfit!” He may have said that in a too loud of voice, but Feliciano only cheered.

“Yes! Isn’t it cute? I haven’t actually bought an outfit in years!” He gave a little spin to show it off. The black piece of cloth he had been using to hide his ears was replaced by a much thicker piece of white fabric. A few strands of auburn hair rested against his forehead while the headscarf itself seemed to be tied at the nape of his neck, leaving the tail end of it loose. It hid the sharpened tips of his ears perfectly without making them look unnatural. This was much better to wear anyway since many lower class Avalonian omegas, especially those who had children, wore headscarves.

The rest of his outfit consisted of clothes that weren’t anything outlandish- thankfully, it wasn’t anything that would draw attention to him. Like Ludwig, he wore a white long-sleeved shirt though his looked more like a blouse with a dipping collar. Over the shirt was a sky blue corset with laced and trimmed in brown, the same shade that matched his pants and new boots. The only thing that wasn’t new was the burgundy cloak wrapped around his frame, along with the bow and quiver of arrows at his back.

With the snow falling around him, Feliciano looked like a gorgeous wintertime nymph instead of the springtime Fae he usually was.

“You’re very beautiful, yes.” Feliciano faltered, but Ludwig, for once, did not. He sent the tiniest of smiles Feliciano’s way, and felt his heart skip a beat when Feliciano stood on his tippy toes to press a gentle kiss to Ludwig’s cheek. That one kiss washed away the rest of Ludwig’s concerns. He did not need to think about Gilbert’s whereabouts or the pressing anxiety and dark thoughts that seemed to fill even the deepest crevices of his mind. When Feliciano smiled like that, Ludwig could pretend everything was okay.

These days still felt more like a dream to him.

“Look at Matthew too!” Feliciano pointed to Matthew, who was smiling at Elias as the boy skipped around him, talking about something in a very animated flourish. “Can you believe he wanted to keep his old clothes when these make him look so handsome?”

Matthew’s outfit was, actually, impressive. He wore a dark red long sleeved shirt with bands around his elbows that kept the sleeves from becoming too baggy while black string was tied across his chest to keep the shirt from falling open. Around his middle was a thick black belt that seemed big enough to hold the _Fabula_\- Ludwig wondered if the book was already tucked away within it. His black pants were tucked into his old brown boots, though they were now stitched with pale brown fur. Like Feliciano, his brown cloak was still wrapped around his body, the hood thrown up to conceal his face. Ludwig wondered if he were worried someone would think he looked like Avalon’s prince, though he doubted anyone but the guards here knew what the prince looked like.

“Great!” Feliciano clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Now that we’ve all gotten new clothes, how about we get something to eat? Something that hasn’t been freshly caught and burnt over a fire.”

Elias cheered, but Ludwig hesitated. He was still not entirely comfortable being in a town, no matter how small it was, and since Gilbert was gone, they were down someone who was able to fight. Ludwig could take care of Avalonian soldiers, but if he needed Feliciano, Elias, and Matthew to run, he rather someone run with them. However… Feliciano and Elias seemed so excited by the prospect of food, and Matthew’s been so sullen recently… They could all use a bit of a pick me up. Maybe it was not the best choice, but Ludwig found himself sighing.

“A meal sounds good, but after that we need to leave.” The answer seemed to make everyone happy.

Ludwig could not recall the last time he had eaten in a place that was not a run-down tavern or Camelot’s palace, but as he sat at a circular table and listened to Feliciano, Elias, and Matthew prattle off orders to a young waitress in the tavern they had decided on, he realized he missed places like these. Their lunch was surprisingly normal. They did not, or rather could not, talk about the prophecy or missing queens or legendary kings; it was filled with light chatter, of Feliciano talking about the Orlon Forest and Matthew answering Feliciano’s and Elias’s questions about the steppes of Glaceria. Ludwig sat back and just listened for the most part until their food arrived. It was quite comical how different their platters were. Matthew and Feliciano had ordered items that were mostly greenery and herbs since witches and Fae typically ate things that did not come from animals.

Ludwig on the other hand ordered meat and had split half of it with Elias, as a shapeshifter’s diet consisted of mostly meat, especially predatory shapeshifters. Elias’s eyes had nearly jumped from their sockets when he took in the roasted chicken in front of him, and he even eyed Feliciano warily, as if he were expecting his mother to tell him he couldn’t eat it. But Feliciano only laughed and waved him on. And so they ate, quietly and eagerly. It was then, while they were eating together in a way that resembled a pack that a sort of heaviness gathered over the table.

Gilbert would have been delighted to eat food this good. He would have enjoyed the company and would have talked until his throat was sore. But he was gone, trudging along in the opposite direction. Ludwig just hoped he was okay. Maybe he was still fuming, or perhaps at this point he was starting to regret all that he had said and done.

Suddenly, Matthew gasped and dropped his fork. It rattled against the wooden plate he was nibbling from before landing on the floor. Ludwig had nearly pushed his chair back and reached for the hilt of his blade before he realized the noise had not been a malicious one. He stared at Matthew, as did Feliciano and Elias, and watched the beta press his hands against his middle, right on top of his new black belt, eyebrows drawn together in what seemed to be pain.

Ludwig sniffed the air. He was not sure if anyone else could detect it, but he caught the smell of something… strange. It smelt like the air before a summer thunderstorm, like something was charged with electricity. And it was coming straight from Matthew. “What is it?”

Thankfully, Matthew was not being noisy, none of them were, otherwise they would have been drawing attention to themselves. “I don’t know,” whispered Matthew. “It feels like- like something is burning me.” Then his eyes widened. With quick, nimble fingers, he unbuttoned part of his belt and took out the exact item Ludwig suspected he had slipped inside. The _Fabula_.

The leather bound book looked as ingenuous as ever, but Ludwig recoiled as did Feliciano and Elias. Of course they would because they had superior senses and could smell the _wrongness_ that came from it. It was almost like the scent that came from that gods forsaken collar, but this one was different, the complete opposite of the deathly smell that came from the daemon filled collar. Ludwig could not explain it.

“What,” breathed Feliciano, “Is something wrong with it?”

Matthew only shook his head, no longer wearing a pained expression. “I’m not sure. It felt like it was burning me but…” He trailed off. “It’s bigger.”

“It’s what?” Ludwig realized this was the first time he was actually seeing the mythical book. The others had talked about. All he knew about it was the Fae of the Orlon Forest had been looking after it, Matthew had a vision telling him he needed to find it, and that it was filled with prophecies that were said to help Matthew on his quest to find King Arthur. Apparently, it had led them to the Green Knight who in turn led them to Ludwig.

“Bigger.” Matthew pressed his hand against the cover, but nothing happened. “There are more pages- it’s like someone added them…” He trailed off again before he started to pull the cover back, fingers trembling as he held it carefully between them.

Startled, Ludwig glanced around the tavern, but no one was paying them any mind. Even so, he hissed out, “Stop. What if that thing does something? If the guards figure out what it is, we’re as good as dead.” But Matthew either ignored him or did not hear him at all for he did not let go of the book. Instead, he opened it completely.

Despite himself, Ludwig leaned closer, as did Feliciano and Elias. Even though Matthew had only flipped back the cover, it took him to the center of the book where two blank pages rested side by side. Ludwig narrowed his eyes. What the hell? Then, out of nowhere, gold thread started to stitch itself into the page, curving and twisting- forming words. Elias gasped while Feliciano whispered, “This is almost like what it did in the Orlon Forest, remember?”

“Yes,” Matthew breathed. There was a soft sniffle, and Ludwig chanced a glance from the book to look at Matthew. His eyes were wet. “I knew the _Fabula_ was still important.”

And then, from behind them, the door to the tavern hit the wall from the force of whoever entered. “_Witches_!”

Matthew slammed the book shut and Feliciano pulled Elias from his chair. Ludwig, who sat with his back to the door, slowly reached for the blade at his back while his eyes stayed on the table. He did not know how they knew, but somehow the guards in this town figured out Matthew was a witch and decided to sentence the others with him as his coven, making them witches themselves. They could escape, Ludwig was an army unto himself and these were mere human alphas with crooked swords and arrows- he could easily take care of them-

“Witches are in the town square!” the same voice from mere seconds ago shouted into the now eerily quiet tavern. “The guards ‘ave caught one!” The door slammed shut and all was quiet, save for the commotion beyond the walls.

The shriek of chairs and barstools against the floor echoed through the room as people, mostly alphas from their build, started toward the door while the smell of dread, fear, and anger began filling the tavern. Ludwig nearly gagged, but his heart was racing far too loudly for him to truly be bothered by it. He stood from his seat, hand still fisted around the hilt of his sword. Once he realized where it was, he dropped it.

“Start heading out of town,” Ludwig ordered quietly. “Act like nothing is wrong, and do not run. If any guard tries to stop you, tell them you’re on your way to Camelot to visit family and you only came here to pick up supply. Say nothing about the apparent witches. I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”

He started to turn around, but Feliciano grabbed his wrist. “Wait! What are you going to do?” His eyes were stretched wide and they were beginning to fill with tears. The smell of dying flowers filled Ludwig’s nostrils and a part of him desperately told him to stay with his mate, but not yet. He needed to see whatever was happening in the town square; he needed to know if it was Avalon being paranoid, or if there really were witches walking around.

“I’m going to take a look,” he said as calmly as possible. “Pay for the food with my coins, and try not to panic.” He took a hold of the hand around his wrist and gave it a tiny squeeze before his gaze caught Matthew’s. There was a tint of green on Matthew’s cheeks. “Watch out for Matthew.” Then he dropped Feliciano’s hand and hurried out the door.

The street in front of him was empty when he walked into the cold afternoon. Flurries still fell from an even darker sky, but he ignored their chill as he headed down the path that he assumed would take him to the town square. A breeze rolled through the silent town. The scent of smoke came with it. Ludwig broke into a run.

It did not take him very long to skid to a stop in front of a large crowd in what had to be the town square. At the very center was a makeshift stage made out of wood with a pole in the very center of it, and tied to that pole was a pregnant woman with alabaster skin and midnight black hair. Stacked around her legs were bales of hay. Ten guards were lined up around the stage, swords drawn. A low murmur rose among the crowd as heads turned to stare at the woman on trial with several guards standing beside her on the platform, one of which held a torch in his hand. Bile rose in Ludwig’s throat. By the gods, she was _pregnant_.

“Behold!” one of the guards- the insignia on his uniform told Ludwig he was a captain- shouted with his arms raised. “We caught a witch trying to blend in in this very town! She was selling “herbal remedies” under our very noses, but they weren’t remedies at all; they were works of dark magic!”

A shriek went up from the crowd. Ludwig’s throat burned from the bile, and he tried his hardest to swallow it all down. He had seen witch trials like these in Camelot, usually much worse than a mere burning, and, despite the name, they weren’t just “witches” they were trying. Fae and Elven folk were among them. But to try a pregnant omega all because of a suspicion? It made Ludwig sick.

_Why does it bother you? Don’t you remember all of those bodies you disposed of after you finished draining them of their very essence? Don’t you remember the pregnant omegas YOU killed?_

Ludwig dug his teeth into his tongue and relished in the metallic taste of blood that soon flooded his mouth.

“Any final words, witch” spat the captain, “before we cut your veins to see what color blood you bleed?”

The bile in Ludwig’s throat sank right into his stomach where it burned uncomfortably. They were going to cut her to see her blood. If they did that to her, and she just so happened to have blue blood… it was likely they would go around to cut other omegas to see what color they bled. Feliciano did not bleed red. He took a step back.

The woman raised her head, dark eyes traveling over the crowd assembled around her. Her lips were moving up and down, but it was impossible to tell if she were speaking in tongues or trying to say something. Ludwig knew guards fed suspected witches herbs that made them dizzy so answering whatever questions would be that much more difficult for them. The woman continued to mouth incoherently, her gaze still sweeping over the villagers, until those dark eyes landed on him. Her body gave the tiniest of jerks, and he swore her lips formed around one silent word:

_Lancelot_.

Ludwig took another step back. It did not matter if this woman were a witch or not, he needed to get Feliciano away from Quimper before any guards decided to have every omega line up to get their finger pricked. But before he turned his back to the woman, he hesitated. She was a pregnant woman who needed help, and it was obvious none of the villagers were going to stand up for her, even if some of them were clearly showing signs of discomfort. Under different circumstances, that woman could have been Kiku carrying an unborn Sakura.

She could have been Feliciano carrying an unborn Elias.

His hand began to inch toward the daggers at his hip. If he threw them at two guards standing beside her, the rest would panic. They would hesitate in their confusion, giving Ludwig just enough time to slip through the crowd, disarm half of the ones standing around the stage, and make his way to the woman. He could do it, he was strong enough to take them down. But...

_Remember the last time you tried protecting someone? Look what happened, you broke your poor little mate’s heart._

“Nothing? Alright then. You, witch, will be given a choice!” shouted the captain.“If your blood bleeds red, you will be burned at the stake for giving away such suspicions that you were a possible witch. If your blood bleeds blue, you will be chained and dragged back to Camelot!” _Where she will either be forced to breed with daemons, or have the blood drained out of her so more Ironteeth witches can be made_.

The breath caught in Ludwig’s throat. He needed to help her. Witch or not, she was just another victim of King Alexander’s Avalon. She needed someone, anyone. Gods damnit, Ludwig needed to _fucking help her before those guards acted_.

“Dad?” A new kind of dread filled Ludwig, one he was still not used to feeling, and that was the fear a father had for their child. The hands reaching his daggers fell as he spun around and took in Elias’s tiny frame, eyes widening at the sight before him. “What’s… going on?”

Ludwig closed the distance between them before dropping to his knees and placing his hands on Elias’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?” His heart sank. “Where is your mother? And Matthew?”

“W-waiting for you at the edge of the village.” Elias’s voice trembled. He tried to peer around Ludwig, but Ludwig made sure his body blocked the view of the stage. “What’s-”

Ludwig slapped a hand over Elias’s mouth. The last thing they needed was any sort of attention on them, and an unruly child speaking out against a public display of power such as this was the exact sort of thing Avalonian guards would find interest in. He pressed one finger to his own lips, eyes cutting into Elias’s. He waited for the boy to nod before he dropped his hand just as shouts and screams filled the air. Ludwig spun around to see what it was the villagers found so shocking.

Dark blue blood dripped from the woman’s arm. It glistened against the blade held in one of the guard’s hands, and looked almost black against the woman’s stark white skin. She was a true witch, the kind King Alexander wanted for his experiments and creations. A flash of green eyes entered Ludwig’s mind.

“So she’s a true witch?” the captain who had cut her breathed. The other guards had stepped away in what was most likely fear, but Ludwig could no longer pay them any mind. He was turning away, reaching for Elias because _they needed to move now_. The guard’s voice boomed over the gasping crowd, and it shook Ludwig to his core. “Let this be a lesson for any other witches hiding in Quimper! Your kind is unwanted; you’re creatures of Hell, worse than daemons themselves! Turn yourselves in and your punishment will not be as harsh. Lieutenant, hand me your club.”

Elias let out a small gasp when Ludwig grabbed him and hoisted him into his arms, but he did not complain, the entirety of his attention resting solely on the stage. “Dad, what are they-”

“Close your eyes, Elias,” Ludwig hissed, turning back around so he was facing the stage and Elias could not look without craning his neck. Ludwig pressed his hand against the back of Elias’s head as an extra layer of precaution. “Do not turn around, whatever you-” The words were drowned out by an agonizing scream from the stage.

The guard had replaced his knife with a ball headed club, and had just finished swinging it right against the witch’s rounded belly. “Your spawn of devils does not deserve to live,” the captain sneered before raising the weapon and slamming it right back into her stomach. Another wail accompanied by gasps and murmurs from the crowd. Ludwig tightened his grip on Elias right before the witch screamed,

“_Please spare my baby_!”

A faint whimper came from Elias. It was enough to break Ludwig out of his shocked silence. Forget the memories of the past, forget the feelings of regret and hopelessness; he had his son in his arms who he needed to prioritize. Spinning on his heel, Ludwig raced back the way he came, keeping one hand pressed against Elias’s head so the boy had no choice but to keep his face nestled in Ludwig’s neck.

“It’s okay, Elias,” he said as he ran. “We’re going to be okay, we’re going to be fine. I’m getting us out of here.” Another blood curdling scream, then another, and another. _Thump thump thump_. “Just keep your head down.”

It was not long before Ludwig nearly slammed into someone rounding the corner behind a shop, and it took him a moment to realize that someone was Feliciano. Feliciano barely had time to exclaim, “By the gods, Elias!” before Ludwig was grabbing the arm of his mate and pulling him along, racing in the direction he hoped Matthew was in. “What- Ludwig, what is…” His question was mostly answered by the next wet wail that pierced the air.

Finally, they made it to the edge of the town where Matthew was standing, staff in hand. His eyes widened when he caught sight of them. He did not get the chance to ask what had happened before Ludwig was skidding to a halt and peeling Elias from his arms. “A witch,” he gasped, unstrapping the sheath from his back and the daggers at his hips. “A witch was found, a real one. We need to get out now before they prick every other omega’s hand to see if they bleed blue blood.”

Matthew’s eyes widened, and maybe it was unconscious, but his gaze slipped over to Feliciano, whose breathing was beginning to become labored. Feliciano did not have red blood. He had gold.

He handed his daggers to Feliciano and his sword to Matthew before he shouted, “Climb on!” and then shifted into a wolf. With incredible speed, they were all on his back- Feliciano in the front, Matthew in the back, and Elias between them. A snarl burst from Ludwig before he started out of Quimper.

Kuma would find them eventually, he always knew where Matthew was, so Ludwig was free to go wherever he pleased. Snow pelted around them as he hurried into the forest, paws sliding over fallen leaves dotted with frost, and legs leaping over tiny creeks and uprooted trees. It must have been an uncomfortable ride for the three on his back, but he had to run as fast as he could- they had to get away from that town.

Every instinct, beast and man, was screaming for him to _go faster_. Protect his mate, protect his son, _protect his damn pack_, and if that meant acting like a coward and running for his gods damn life, then so be it. He would think about that later once they were safe, but until then, he had to concentrate.

A sharp cough crawled out from his throat as he finished the climb up a particularly steep slope. The pads of his paws burned from the freezing touch of the ground, and his lungs felt like they were filling with embers instead of snowflakes, but still he ran. The trees were beginning to thin and the smell of the forest was beginning to change from mossy trees to a muddy pond, but Ludwig did not pay it any mind. Maybe he should have.

And then, the ground below turned into arms and grabbed Ludwig’s legs, forcing him to slam into a halt.

The force of his sudden halt was strong enough that it sent Feliciano sailing over his head while Matthew and Elias fell from his sides. Ludwig gnashed his fangs together as he tried lifting one of his forelegs, but the action was futile. It would not budge, no matter how desperately he tried moving. Confused and just a bit dazed, he looked down and was shocked by what he saw. Arms and hands made from roots protruding right from the ground were wrapped around his legs.

A sharp growl broke free from his lips as he continued the struggle of wrenching himself free from the ground, but then the grip of the earthen arms tightened, causing a yelp to burst through next. What the hell was going on?

“Ludwig!” Feliciano was standing in front of him, waving his arms over his head, with the front part of his body covered in leaves and frost. “Please stop moving like that, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Ludwig wanted to yell at Feliciano to keep running and not stop until Quimper was nothing but a distant memory behind them, but he knew Feliciano would not leave him here, not after the tragedy that happened the last time he left Ludwig behind. Maybe if Ludwig snarled at him, he would go. But he never got the chance. Instead, Matthew shouted from behind them, “Look!”

Feliciano spun around, pressing a hand to Ludwig’s neck as if he were trying to protect him from whatever forces stood before them. Ludwig expected guards or soldiers, but what he had not been expecting was lone figure in a bright red cape with the hood concealing half of their face. They seemed to be wearing a long black skirt beneath the cloak with a long opening sliced down the side, revealing a dark brown thigh. Ludwig was quite certain whoever this was was a woman.

But perhaps the most startling thing about her was her outstretched arm and the dark green… thing that glided between her fingers. It was like a flickering green flame, but it couldn’t have been. There was no such thing.

Feliciano’s voice was a breath on the wind. “I think she’s the one who did this.”

By the gods, could they ever catch a break?

Ludwig let out a deafening snarl, but the woman in the red hood did not drop her hand. Instead she tightened it into a fist and the earthen arms tightened their grip. Another whimper left Ludwig. Feliciano gasped. Gods, when Ludwig got out of these ridiculous restraints he was going to rip out this woman’s throat for making his mate worry like this.

“Stop this!” Matthew’s voice held the slightest tremor in it, but he still marched forward and stood in front of Ludwig and Feliciano, staff planted in the earth. A moment later, Elias was wrapping his arms around Feliciano’s waist with a new faint scratch on his cheek. Ludwig was going to _murder_ this woman. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure Avalon’s King would be very interested in a witch who can control the earth like this.”

Ludwig paused. A witch. Of course this was the work of a witch, the creatures who worked with the elements and nature by using spells, curses, and potions.

“Let my friend go before I report this to the garrison in Quimper.” Matthew’s legs were beginning to shake, but his voice had grown clearer, sharper. Ludwig was quite shocked by Matthew’s ability to bluff, too, for there was no way someone like Matthew would sell anyone out to Avalon. Surprisingly, it seemed this woman knew that too.

With a heavy accent Ludwig had never heard before, she replied, “You’re a good liar, sir, but not good enough.” She tilted her head back just enough for Ludwig to see plump lips formed in a teasing smile. “I am not your enemy either.”

That got Matthew to falter. “But- you’ve put a spell on my friend.”

“Only because I knew the only way to get the great General Ludwig Beilschmidt to stop and listen to me was to stop him by force.” She lowered her hand and the green disappeared, and as soon as it did the earthen arms slithered back into the ground. Unfortunately, Ludwig collapsed in a heap as soon as they let him go. Feliciano knelt beside him and pressed a hand against his cheek, but Ludwig could not spare his mate even one glance. He refused to take his eyes off of this woman.

“How…” Feliciano’s voice broke. He shook his head and tried again. “How do you know his name?”

The woman’s lips parted to show pearly white teeth. “Easy, Feliciano Beilschmidt. I found it on your wanted posters. You know, Feliciano Beilschmidt, you look much sneakier on your poster, like a fox or maybe even a Faerie.”

Absolute silence. This woman knew Ludwig was a shapeshifter, and, even worse, she knew Feliciano was a Fae. She knew their names, claimed to have gotten them from _wanted posters_. Gilbert might have said they were in deep shit.

Suddenly, the woman giggled. It was much more girlish than her earlier words, and it made her sound years younger. She tugged off her red hood and Ludwig realized she was, in fact, very young, perhaps no older than eighteen. “I’m messing with you guys. You should see the looks on your faces, it’s hilarious!” The girl had a head of dark hair made up entirely of tiny curls that were clipped in two identical ponytails, and a dark face that shone without a single blemish. Her golden eyes shone with mischief as she laced her hands in front of her and bowed her head.

“Well, I’m not joking about the wanted posters. Those are real, and I’m really interested to hear how the two of you were able to outrun Avalonian soldiers, but I suppose that can wait until we’re all having tea together.”

Ludwig and Feliciano shared a look. Now Ludwig was just lost. Thankfully, Matthew seemed just as lost, if not more. “I-I’m sorry… What are you talking about?”

The girl brought a hand up to cover her mouth as she giggled. “I’m so sorry, where are my manners?” When she dropped her hand, she was smiling softly. “My name is Michelle, and I’m a witch like you, Matthew Williams. I was sent by your mother Adhan; she is waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this since flipping June. JUNE. I am so, so _so_ sorry, everyone! I'm not sure how many people have actually stuck with this story for the nearly six month hiatus this thing went on, but to everyone who, for some reason, decided to stick with it, you own my heart. I hope everyone enjoyed this super delayed chapter :)
> 
> I've changed the outline for the remaining chapters, and it's once again gotten longer. The final chapter of this fic will be sort of like a bonus chapter about Ludwig's life in Camelot for those nine long years, and it's going to be a pretty long chapter, but it's a necessary one. Oh, I'm also writing a little side fic about Elias's backstory that is going to be a lovely present for a very lovely person (you know exactly who you are) so please look forward to that!
> 
> Additional notes:
> 
> -Quimper: this town held significance in the Lancelot-Galahad story, and since Ludwig and Elias had their little moment in this town, I thought it was a fitting father-son name.

**Author's Note:**

> Please not that any and all loose ends you find in this chapter will be explained as the story progresses. You will have to stick around and find out what happens with them ;). And so, chapter one ends. I cannot tell you how excited I am to start this. I have so many plans for the characters, for the world, for everything. This is going to be Part 1 of 4, so yes, this is a very long story.
> 
> And yes, the woman who picked up little Phillip is based off of the Native Inuit Tribe of Canada. It is one, if not the most well known Native tribe in Canada.
> 
> Kudos are great, but comments are better! :)


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